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AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



OTHER BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

The Claim Jumpers, The Westerners, The Blazed Trail, Blazed 

Trail Stories, The Magic Forest, Conjuror's House, The Silent 

Places, The Forest, The Mountains, Arizona Nights, The 

Pass, Camp and Trail, The Riverman, The Cahin, 

The Adventures of Bobby Orde, The 

Rules of the Game, The Sign at Six, 

The Land of Footprints 

(With Samuel Hopkins Adams) 

The Mystery 



AFRICAN CAMP 
FIRES 



BY 



STEWART EDWARD WHITE, F. R. G. S. 




ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 



Garden City New York 

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 

1913 






% 



Copyright J 1913, hy 

DOUBLEDAY, PaGE & COMPANY 

All rights reserved, including that of 

translation into foreign languages, 

including the Scandinavian 



♦ 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 
Part I — To the Island of War 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Open Door .^_^ 3 

II. The Farewell 11 

III. Port Said 16 

IV. Suez 25 

V. The Red Sea 31 

VI. Aden 42 

VII. The Indian Ocean 49 

VIII. Mombasa 59 

Part II — The Shimba Hills 

IX. A Tropical Jungle 77 

X. The Sable 89 

XL A March Along the Coast ... 96 

XII. The Fire 104 

Part III — Nairobi 

XIII. Up from the Coast 113 

XIV. A Fiat Town 119 

V 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XV. People . 125 

XVI. Recruiting 134 

Part IV — A Lion Hunt on Kapiti 

XVII. An Ostrich Farm at Machakos . 143 

XVIII. The First Lioness 151 

XIX. The Dogs . 156 

XX. Bondoni 161 

XXI. Riding the Plains 164 

XXII. The Second Lioness 176 

XXIII. The Big Lion 181 

XXIV. The Fifteen Lions . . . . . 186 

Part V — The Tsavo River 

XXV. Voi 193 

XXVI. The Fringe-Eared Oiyx . . . 199 

XXVII. Across the Serengetti .... 206 

XXVIII. Down the River 214 

XXIX. The Lesser Kudu 225 

XXX. Adventures by the Way . . . 232 

^ XXXI. The Lost Safari ..... 239 

XXXII. The Babu 247 

Part VI — In Masailand 

XXXIII. Over the Likipia Escarpment . 255 

XXXIV. To the Kedong 267 

vi 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XXXV. The Transport Rider. . . . 270 

XXXVI. Across the Thirst .... 278 

XXXVII. The Southern Guaso Nyero . 286 

XXXVIII. The Lower Benches .... 293 

XXXIX. Notes on the Masai .... 310 

XL. Through the Enchanted Forest . 326 

XLI. Naiokotoku 331 

XLII. Scouting in the Elephant Forest 336 

XLIII. The Topi Camp 344 

XLIV. The Unknown Land .... 352 

XLV. The Roan 356 

XLVI. The Greater Kudu .... 366 

XLVII. The Magic Portals Close . . 372 

XLVIII. The Last Trek 375 



Vll 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Trophy Room of the author . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

"Camels laden with stone and in convoy of 

white-clad figures" .^ 22 i^ 

The control station 23 »/ 

"Innumerable rowboats swarmed down, filled 
with eager salesmen of curios and ostrich 

plumes " 26 *^ 

Dhow in the Red Sea 27 . ' 

Another View of the Trophy Room ... 42 ^ 
"We waited patiently to see the camels slung 

aboard by the crane" 43 

Vasco da Gama Street, the principal thorough- 
fare of Mombaso 60^^ 

The trolley car of Mombaso 6ov^ 

In the ivory market of Mombasa . . . 61^ 

The labour of Africa is carried forward by song 61 1^ 

Old Portuguese fort at Mombasa .... 6S ^ 

In the Arab quarter of Mombasa. ... 68 »^ 

In the Swahili quarter of Mombasa . . . 69 1^ 
The entire water supply of Mombasa is drawn 

from numberless picturesque wells . . 69 i^ 
ix 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE y 

The lazy Boabab Tree ^(^ 

In the native quarter of Mombasa ... "jj 

Swahili women at Mombasa 86 ^ 

The slope fell gently away through a coconut 

grove 87 

The camp beneath the mangoes .... 87 ^ 

The Sable 90^' 

"From it led a narrow path through the 

thicket" 91' 

"The hotel manager came forward with the 
offer of a gasoline launch, which we gladly 

accepted" 92 ^ 

"Then suddenly we found ourselves in a story- 
book, tropical paradise" 93 v' 

Masai women at a station of the Uganda Rail- 
road I 

Train on the Uganda Railway. 
Inside a fence — before the low, stone-built, 

wide-verandahed hotel" n? (/ 

Savages from the jungle untouched by civili- 
zation — wander the streets unabashed" 124 v 
Convicts marching into Nairobi in charge of 

Soudanese . . 125 f- 

"But the native is the joy, and the never- 
ceasing delight" 128 v/ 

In the bazaar at Nairobi. Kikuyus bargaining 128 \, 

X 



93 '^ 

116 tJ 
116 I 



iC 



cc 



I 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



• 



FACING PAGE 



"Kapiti goes on over the edge of the world to 

unknown, unguessed regions, rolling and 

troubled like a sea" 129 (X 

"The ostriches are kept in corrals" . . . 144 s/ 

"The first lioness, the Hills and Captain Duirs " 145 ^y 
"They closed in and began to worry the nearly 

lifeless carcass " 168^ 

Spying for lions from the kopjes . . . 169 (/ 

"Kongoni" .... 202 ^ 

The fringe-eared Oryx 203 ^^ 

The desert of the Serengetti 216 ' 

"In the river jungle" 217 ' 

The Tsavo River below the junction. . . 217 ^'^' 

The Lesser Kudu 228 ^ 

Bushbuck — a very shy bush-dwelling animal. 

This photograph is most unusual . . 229 ^ 
"Each day the pinnacles over the way changed 

slightly their compass directions "... 248 '-^ 
Left to right — Timothy, Abba Ali, Leyeye, 

Mohamet 249 ^ 

Cunlnghame 262 • 

Crossing the Southern Guaso Narok . . . 263 

Kingangui 280 V 

Kimau 280 ^- 

"From it we looked down into the deep gorge 

of the Southern Guaso Nyero" . . . . 281 t^ 
xi 



c/ 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE 

The Eland 288\/ 

Cape Buffalo 288 / 

The Fourth Bench 289 / 

The Valley of Lengeetoto 304 'Z 

Cheetah 304 (/ 

Our camp at the Narossara 305 . 

Our camp In Lengeetoto 305 / 

Illustrating the heavy Iron jewellery . . . 310 ^' 

Unmarried woman with goatskin robe . . 310 ' 
"These low-rounded huts In shape like a loaf 

of bread" 311 

'* Upward of a thousand head In charge of two 

old women on foot" 3^4 

"They visited camp freely, and would sit 

down for a good lively afternoon of joking " 315 ' 

Warriors 324 •/ 

"The southern branch of the race — are very 

fine physically" ........ 324 k 

Masai men and women 325 

In the southern districts the warriors wear 

two single black ostrich feathers" . . 325 w 
The girl in the middle ground has painted her 

face white to indicate travel" . . . 332 1/ 
When moving the villages they take with them 

only the wicker doors 332 w^ 

Masai with headdress of lion's mane . . 333 ^ 

xii 



cc 



a 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE 

A neophyte with headdress of small bird skins 333*^ 

The El-morani is an imposing figure . . . 340 ^ 

Masai El-morani, or warrior 340 ^ 

Construction of V.'s boma 341 ^ 

''I offered a half rupee as a prize for an archery 

competition" 348*^ 

Naiokotuku and one of his sons .... 349 ^ 
Our southernmost camp. From this point we 

turned back . . . ^^z v^ 

" We called the Masai and Wanderobo before 

^«" 353"" 

A present from Naiokotuku 353^ 

The Roan ^60 ^ 

"It was almost exactly like the sage-brush 

deserts" 361^ 

"In the Elephant country" 368 '^ 

The Greater Kudu 369 »/ 



Xlll 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



THE OPEN DOOR 

THERE are many interesting hotels scattered 
about the world, with a few of which I am 
acquainted and with a great many of which I am 
not. Of course all hotels are interesting, from one 
point of view or another. In fact the surest way to 
fix an audience's attention is to introduce your hero, 
or to display your opening chorus in the lobby or 
along the facade of a hotel. The life, the movement 
and colour, the shifting individualities, the pretence, 
the bluff, the self-consciousness, the independence, 
the ennui, the darting or lounging servants, the very 
fact that of those before your eyes seven out of 
ten are drawn from distant and scattered places, 
are sufficient in themselves to invest the smallest 
hostelry with glamour. It is not of this general 
interest that I would now speak. Nor is it my 
intention at present to glance at the hotels wherein 

3 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES j 

"quaintness" is specialized, whether intentionally 
or no. There are thousands of thena; and all of 
them well worth the discriminating traveller's 
attention. Concerning some of them — as the old 
inns at Dives-sur-mer and at Mont St. Michel — 
whole books have been written. These depend for 
their charm on a mingled gift of the unusual and the 
picturesque. There are, as I have said, thousands 
of them; and of their cataloguing, should one embark 
on so wide a sea, there could be no end. And, 
again, I must for convenience exclude the altogether 
charming places like the Tour d'Argent of Paris, 
Simpsons of the Strand,* and a dozen others that 
will spring to every traveller's memory, where the 
personality of the host, or of a chef, or even a waiter, 
is at once a magnet for the attraction of visitors and 
a reward for their coming. These too are many. 
In the interest to which I would draw attention, 
the hotel as a building or as an institution has little 
part. It is indeed a fagade, a mise en scene before 
which play the actors that attract our attention and 
applause. The set may be as modernly elaborate 
as Peacock Alley of the Waldorf or the templed 
lobby of the St. Francis; or it may present the 
severe and Elizabethan simplicity of the stone-paved 
veranda of the Norfolk at Nairobi — the matter is 

*In old days before the ''improvements.'* > ' ■ 

4 



THE OPEN DOOR 

quite inessential to the spectator. His appreciation 
is only slightly and indirectly influenced by these 
things. Sunk in his arm-chair — of velvet or of 
canvas — he puffs hard and silently at his cigar, 
watching and listening as the pageant and the 
conversation eddy by. 

Of such hotels I number that gaudy and poly- 
syllabic hostelry the Grand Hotel du Louvre et de 
la Paix at Marseilles. I am indifferent to the facts 
that it is situated on that fine thoroughfare, the 
Rue de Cannebiere, which the proud and untravelled 
native devoutly believes to be the finest street in 
the world; that it possesses a dining-room of gilded 
and painted repousse work so elaborate and won- 
derful that it surely must be intended to represent 
a tinsmith's dream of heaven; that its concierge is 
the most impressive human being on earth except 
Ludwig Von Kampf, whom I have never seen; 
that its head waiter is sadder and more elderly 
and forgiving than any other head waiter; and that 
its hushed and cathedral atmosphere has been 
undisturbed through immemorial years. That is 
to be expected; and elsewhere to be duplicated in 
greater or lesser degree. Nor in the lofty courtyard, 
or the equally lofty halls and reading rooms, is there 
ever much bustle and movement. People sit 
quietly, or move with circumspection. Servants 

S 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

glide. The fall of a book or teaspoon, the sudden 
closing of a door, are events to be remarked. Once 
a day, however, a huge gong sounds, the glass doors 
of the inner courtyard are thrown open with a 
flourish, and enter the huge 'bus fairly among those 
peacefully sitting at the tables, horses' hoofs striking 
fire, long lash cracking volleys, wheels roaring amid 
hollow reverberations. From the interior of this 
'bus emerge people; and from the top, by means of a 
strangely constructed hooked ladder, are descended 
boxes and trunks and appurtenances of various 
sorts. In these people and in these boxes, trunks, 
and appurtenances are the real interest of the Grand 
Hotel du Louvre et de la Paix of the marvellous 
Rue Cannebiere of Marseilles. 

For at Marseilles land ships, many ships, from all 
the scattered ends of the earth; and from Marseilles 
depart trains for the North, where is home, or the 
way home, for many peoples. And since the arrival 
of ships is uncertain, and the departure of trains 
fixed, it follows that everybody descends for a little 
or greater period at the Grand Hotel du Louvre et 
de la Paix. 

They come lean and quiet and a little yellow from 
hard climates, with the names of strange places on 
their lips, and they speak familiarly of far-off things. 
Their clothes are generally of ancient cut, and the 

6 



THE OPEN DOOR 

wrinkles and camphor aroma of a long packing 
away are yet discernible. Often they are still 
wearing sun helmets or double terai hats pending a 
descent on a Piccadilly hatter two days hence. 
They move slowly and languidly; the ordinary 
piercing and dominant English enunciation has 
fallen to modulation; their eyes, while observant and 
alert, look tired. It is as though the far countries 
have sucked something from the pith of them in 
exchange for great experiences that nevertheless 
seem of little value; as though these men, having met 
at last face to face the ultimate of what the earth has 
to offer in the way of danger, hardship, difficulty and 
the things that try men's souls, having unexpectedly 
found them all to fall short of both the importance 
and the final significance with which human-kind 
has always invested them, were now just a little 
at a loss. Therefore they stretch their long, lean 
frames in the wicker chairs, they sip the long 
drinks at their elbows, puff slowly at their long, lean 
cheroots, and talk spasmodically in short sentences. 

Of quite a different type are those going out — 
young fellows full of northern health and energy, 
full of the eagerness of anticipation, full of romance 
skilfully concealed, self-certain, authoritative, clear 
voiced. Their exit from the 'bus Is followed by a 
rain of hold-alls, bags, new tin boxes, new gun cases, 

7 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

all lettered freshly — an enormous kit doomed to 
diminution. They overflow the place, ebb toward 
their respective rooms; return scrubbed and ruddy, 
correctly clad, correctly unconscious of everybody 
else; sink into more wicker chairs. The quiet brown 
and yellow men continue to puff on their cheroots, 
quite eclipsed. After a time one of them picks up 
his battered old sun helmet and goes out into the 
street. The eyes of the newcomers follow him. 
They fall silent; and their eyes, under cover of 
pulled moustache, furtively glance toward the lean 
man's companions. Then on that office falls a 
great silence, broken only by the occasional rare 
remarks of the quiet men with the cheroots. The 
youngsters are listening with all their ears, though 
from their appearance no one would suspect that 
fact. Not a syllable escapes them. These quiet 
men have been there, they have seen with their own 
eyes, their lightest word is saturated with the 
mystery and romance of the unknown. Their easy, 
matter-of-fact, everyday knowledge is richly won- 
derful. It would seem natural for these young- 
young men to question these old-young men of 
that which they desire so ardently to know; but 
that isn't done, you know. So they sit tight, and 
pretend they are not listening, and feast their ears 
on the wonderful syllables — Ankobur, Kabul, 

8 



THE OPEN DOOR 

Peshawur, Annam, Nyassaland, Kerman, SerengettI, 
Tanganyika and many others. On these beautiful 
syllables must their imaginations feed, for that which 
is told is as nothing at all. Adventure there is none, 
romance there is none, mention of high emprise 
there is none. Adventure, romance, high emprise 
have to these men somehow lost their importance. 
Perhaps such things have been to them too common 
■ — as well mention the morning egg. Perhaps they 
have found that there is no genuine adventure, no 
real romance except over the edge of the world where 
the rainbow stoops. 

The 'bus rattles in and rattles out again. It takes 
the fresh-faced young men down past the inner 
harbour to where lie the tall ships waiting. They 
and their cargo of exuberance, of hope, of energy, 
of thirst for the bubble adventure, the rainbow 
romance, sail away to where these wares have a 
market. And the quiet men glide away to the north. 
Their wares have been marketed. The sleepy, 
fierce, passionate, sunny lands have taken all they 
had to bring. And have given in exchange .^^ 
Indifference, ill-health, a profound realization that 
the length of days are as nothing at all, a supreme 
agnosticism as to the ultimate value of anything 
that a single man can do, a sublime faith that it 
must be done, the power to concentrate, patience 

9 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

illimitable, contempt for danger, disregard of death, 
the intention to live, a final, weary estimate of the 
fact that mere things are as unimportant here as 
there, no matter how quaintly or fantastically they 
are dressed or named, and a corresponding emptiness 
of anticipation for the future — these items are only 
a random few of the price given by the ancient lands 
for that which the northern races bring to them. 
What other alchemical changes have been wrought 
only these lean and weary men could know — if they 
dared look so far within themselves. And even if 
they dared, they would not tell. 



10 



II 

THE FAREWELL 

WE BOARDED ship filled witn a great, and 
what seemed to us an unappeasable, curiosity 
as to what we were going to see. It was not a very big 
ship, in spite of the grandiloquent descriptions in the 
advertisements, or the lithograph wherein she cut 
grandly and evenly through huge waves to the mani- 
fest discomfiture of infinitesimal sailing cr^ft bobbing 
alongside. She was manned entirely by Germans. 
The room stewards waited at table, cleaned the 
public saloons, kept the library, rustled the baggage, 
and played in the band. That is why we took our 
music between meals. Our staterooms were very 
tiny indeed. Each was provided with an electric 
fan; a totally inadequate and rather aggravating 
electric fan once we had entered the Red Sea. Just 
at this moment we paid it little attention, for we 
were still in full enjoyment of sunny France where, 
in our own experience, it had rained two months 
steadily. Indeed, at this moment it was raining; 
raining a steady, cold, sodden drizzle that had not 

II 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

even the grace to pick out the surface of the harbour 
in the jolly dancing staccato that goes far to lend 
attraction to a genuinely earnest rainstorm. 

Down the long quai splashed cabs and omnibuses, 
their drivers glistening in wet capes, to discharge 
under the open shed at the end various hasty indi- 
viduals who marshalled long lines of porters with 
astonishing impedimenta and drove them up the 
gangplank. A half-dozen roughs lounged aimlessly. 
A little bent old woman with a shawl over her head 
searched here and there. Occasionally she would 
find a twisted splinter of wood torn from the piles 
by a hawser, or gouged from the planking by heavy 
freight, or kicked from the floor by the hoofs of horses. 
This she deposited carefully in a small covered 
market basket. She was entirely intent on this 
minute and rather pathetic task, quite unattending 
the greatness ^of the ship, or the many people the 
great hulk swallowed or spat forth. 

Near us against the rail leaned a dark-haired 
young Englishman whom later every man on that 
many-nationed ship came to recognize and to avoid 
as an insufferable bore. Now, however, the angel 
of good inspiration stooped to him. He tossed a 
copper two-sou piece down to the bent old woman. 
She heard the clink of the fall, and looked up bewil- 
dered. One of the waterside roughs slouched for- 

12 



THE FAREWELL 

ward. The Englishman shouted a warning and a 
threat, indicating in pantomime for whom the coin 
was intended. To our surprise that evil-looking 
wharf rat smiled and waved his hand reassuringly; 
then took the old woman by the arm to show her 
where the coin had fallen. She hobbled to it with 
a haste eloquent of the horrible Marseillaise poverty- 
stricken alleys, picked it up joyously, turned — 
and with a delightful grace kissed her finger-tips 
toward the ship. 

Apparently we all of us had a few remaining 
French coins; and certainly we were all grateful to 
the young Englishman for his happy thought. 
The sous descended as fast as the woman could get 
to where they fell. So numerous were they that 
she had no time to express her gratitude except in 
broken snatches of gesture, in interrupted attitudes 
of the most complete thanksgiving. The day of 
miracles for her had come; and from the humble 
poverty that valued tiny and infrequent splinters of 
wood she had suddenly come into great wealth. 
Everybody was laughing, but in a very kindly sort 
of way, it seemed to me; and the very wharf rats and 
gamins, wolfish and fierce in their everyday life of 
the waterfront, seemed to take a genuine pleasure 
in pointing out to her the resting place of those her 
dim old eyes had not seen. Silver pieces followed. 

13 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

These were too wonderful. She grew more and more 
excited, until several of the passengers leaning over 
the rail began to murmur warningly, fearing harm. 
After picking up each of these silver pieces, she 
bowed and gestured very gracefully, waving both 
hands outward, lifting eyes and hands to heaven, 
kissing her fingers, trying by every means in her 
power to express the dazzling wonder and joy that 
this unexpected marvel was bringing her. When 
she had done all these things many times, she hugged 
herself ecstatically. A very well-dressed and pros- 
perous-looking Frenchman standing near seemed to 
be a little afraid she might hug him. His fear had, 
perhaps, some grounds, for she shook hands with 
everybody all around, and showed them her wealth 
in her kerchief, explaining eagerly, the tears running 
down her face. 

Now the gangplank was drawn aboard, and the 
band struck up the usual lively air. At the first 
notes the old woman executed a few feeble little jig 
steps in sheer exuberance. Then the solemnity of 
the situation sobered her. Her great, wealthy, 
powerful, kind friends were departing on their long 
voyage over mysterious seas. Again and again, 
very earnestly, she repeated the graceful, slow 
pantomime ^ — ^the wave of the arms outward, the eyes 
raised to heaven, the hands clasped finally over her 

14 



THE FAREWELL 

head. As the brown strip of water silently widened 
between us it was strangely like a stage scene — the 
roofed sheds of the quai, the motionless groups, the 
central figure of the old woman depicting emotion. 

Suddenly she dropped her hands and hobbled 
away at a great rate, disappearing finally into the 
maze of the street beyond. Concluding that she 
had decided to get quickly home with her great 
treasure, we commended her discretion and gave 
our attention to other things. 

The drizzle fell uninterruptedly. We had edged 
sidewise the requisite distance, and were now gather- 
ing headway in our long voyage. The quai was 
beginning to recede and to diminish. Back from the 
street hastened the figure of the little old woman. 
She carried a large white cloth, of which she had 
evidently been in quest. This she unfolded and 
waved vigorously with both hands. Until we had 
passed quite from sight she stood there signalling her 
farewell. Long after we were beyond distinguishing 
her figure we could catch the flutter of white. Thus 
that ship's company, embarking each on his Great 
Adventure, far from home and friends, received his 
farewell, a very genuine farewell, from one poor old 
woman. B. ventured the opinion that It was the 
best thing we had bought with our French money. 



15 



I 



III 

PORT SAID 

THE time of times to approach Port Said is just 
at the fall of dusk. Then the sea lies in opal- 
escent patches, and the low shores fade away into 
the gathering night. Slanting masts and yards of 
the dhows silhouette against a sky of the deepest 
translucent green; and the heroic statue of De Les- 
seps standing forever at the Gateway he opened, 
points always to the mysterious East. 

The rhythmical, accustomed chug of the engines 
had fallen to quarter speed, leaving an uncanny 
stillness throughout the ship. Silently we slipped 
between the long piers, drew up on the waterside 
town, seized the buoy, and came to rest. All around 
us lay other ships of all sizes, motionless on the inky 
water. The reflections from their lights seemed to 
be thrust into the depths, like stilts; and the few 
lights from the town reflected shiveringly across. 
Along the waterfront all was dark and silent. We 
caught the loom of buildings; and behind them a 
dull glow as from a fire, and guessed tall minar- 

i6 



PORT SAID 

ets, and heard the rising and falling of chanting. 
Numerous small boats hovered near, floating in and 
out of the patches of light we ourselves cast, waiting 
for permission to swarm at the gangplank for our 
patronage. 

We went ashore, passed through a wicket gate, and 
across the dark buildings to the heart of the town, 
whence came the dull glow and the sounds of people. 

Here were two streets running across one another, 
both brilliantly lighted, both thronged, both lined 
with little shops. In the latter one could buy any- 
thing, in any language, with any money. We 
saw cheap straw hats made in Germany hung 
side by side with gorgeous and beautiful stuffs from 
the orient; shoddy European garments and Eastern 
jewels; cheap celluloid combs and curious em- 
broideries. The crowd of passersby in the streets 
were compounded in the same curiously mixed 
fashion; a few Europeans, generally in white, and 
then a variety of Arabs, Egyptians, Somalis, Berbers, 
East Indians and the like, each in his own gaudy or 
graceful costume. It speaks well for the accuracy 
of feeling, anyway, of our various "Midways," 
Pikes," and the like of our world's expositions that 
the streets of Port Said looked like Midways raised 
to the °th power. Along them we sauntered with 
a pleasing feeling of self-importance. On all sides 

17 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



I 



we were gently and humbly besought — by the shop- 
keepers, by the sidewalk vendors, by would-be 
guides, by fortune tellers, by jugglers, by magicians; 
all soft-voiced and respectful; all yielding as water 
to rebuff, but as quick as water to glide back again. 
The vendors were of the colours of the rainbow, and 
were heavily hung with long necklaces of coral 
or amber, with scarves, with strings of silver coins, 
with sequinned veils and silks, girt with many dirks 
and knives, furnished out in concealed pockets with 
scarabs, bracelets, sandal-wood boxes or anything 
else under the broad canopy of heaven one might 
or might not desire. Their voices were soft and 
pleasing, their eyes had the beseeching quality of a 
good dog's, their anxious and deprecating faces were 
ready at the slightest encouragement to break out 
into the friendliest and most intimate of smiles. 
Wherever we went we were accompanied by a retinue 
straight out of the Arabian Nights, patiently await- 
ing the moment when we should tire; should seek 
out the table of a sidewalk cafe; and should, in our 
relaxed mood, be ready to unbend to our royal 
purchases. 

At that moment we were too much interested in 
the town itself. T e tiny shops with their smil- 
ing and insinuating oriental keepers were fascinat- 
ing in their displays of carved woods, jewellery, 

i8 



PORT SAID 

perfumes, silks, tapestries, silversmith's work, os- 
trich feathers and the like. Either side the main 
street lay long, narrow, dark alleys in which flared 
single lights, across which flitted mysterious, long, 
robed figures, from which floated stray snatches of 
music either palpitatingly barbaric or ridiculously 
modern. There the authority of the straight sol- 
dierly looking Soudanese policemen ceased; and it 
was not safe to wander unarmed or alone. 

Besides these motley variegations of the East and 
West, the main feature of the town was the street 
car. It was an open-air structure of spacious 
dimensions, as though benches and a canopy had 
been erected rather haphazard on a small dancing 
platform. The track is absurdly narrow in gauge; 
and as a consequence the edifice swayed and swung 
from side to side. A single mule was attached to it 
loosely by about ten feet of rope. It was driven 
by a gaudy ragamuffin in a turban. Various other 
gaudy ragamuffins lounged largely and picturesquely 
on the widely spaced benches. Whence it came or 
whither it went I do not know. Its orbit swung 
into the main street, turned a corner and disap- 
peared. Apparently Europeans did not patronize 
this picturesque wreck, but drove elegantly but 
mysteriously in small open cabs conducted by to- 
tally incongruous turbaned drivers. 

19 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

We ended finally at an imposing corner hotel 
where we dined by an open window just above the 
level of the street. A dozen upturned faces besought 
us silently during the meal. At a glance of even 
the mildest interest a dozen long, brown arms thrust 
the spoils of the East upon our consideration. With 
us sat a large benign Swedish professor whose erudi- 
tion was encyclopaedic, but whose kindly humanity 
was greater. Uttering deep, cavernous chuckles the 
Professor bargained. A red coral necklace for the 
moment was the matter of interest. The Professor 
inspected it carefully, and handed it back. 

"I doubt if id iss coral," said he simply. 

The present owner of the beads went frantic with 
rapid-fire proof and vociferation. With the swift- 
ness and precision of much repetition he fished out 
a match, struck it, applied the flame to the alleged 
coral, and blew out the match; cast the necklace 
on the pavement, produced mysteriously a small 
hammer, and with it proceeded madly to pound 
the beads. Evidently he was accustomed to being 
doubted, and carried his materials for proof around 
with him. Then, in one motion, the hammer dis- 
appeared; the beads were snatched up, and again 
offered, unharmed, for inspection. 

"Are those good tests for genuineness?" we asked 
the Professor, aside. 

20 



PORT SAID 

"As to that," he replied regretfully, " I do not 
know. I know of coral only that is the hard cal- 
careous skeleton of the marine coelenterate polyps; 
and that this red coral iss called of a sclerobasic 
group; and other facts of the kind; but I do not know 
if it iss supposed to resist impact and heat. Pos- 
sibly," he ended shrewdly, "it is the common. imita- 
tion which does not resist impact and heat. At any 
rate they are pretty. How much.?" he demanded 
of the vendor, a bright-eyed Egyptian waiting pa- 
tiently until our conference should cease. 

"Twenty shillings," he replied promptly. 

The Professor shook with one of his cavernous 
chuckles. 

"Too much," he observed, and handed the neck- 
lace back through the window. 

The Egyptian would by no means receive it. 

"Keep! keep!" he implored, thrusting the mass 
of red upon the Professor with both hands. "How 
much you give?" 

"One shilling," announced the Professor firmly. 

The coral necklace lay on the edge of the table 
throughout most of our leisurely meal. The vendor 
argued, pleaded, gave it up, disappeared in the 
crowd, returned dramatically after an interval. 
The Professor ate calmly, chuckled much, and from 
time to time repeated firmly the words, "One 

21 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

shilling." Finally, at the cheese, he reached out, 
swept the coral into his pocket, and laid down two 
shillings. The Egyptian deftly gathered the coin, 
smiled cheerfully, and produced a glittering veil 
in which he tried in vain to enlist Billy's interest. 

For coffee and cigars we moved to the terrace 
outside. Here an orchestra played, the peoples 
of many nations sat at little tables, the peddlers, 
fakirs, jugglers, and fortune tellers swarmed. A half 
dozen postal cards seemed sufficient to set a small 
boy up in trade, and to imbue him with all the impor- 
tance and insistence of a merchant with jewels. 
Other ten-year-old ragamuffins tried to call our 
attention to some sort of sleight-of-hand with poor 
downy little chickens. Grave turbaned and polite 
Indians squatted crosslegged at our feet begging to 
give us a look into the future by means of the only 
genuine hallmarked Yogism; a troupe of acrobats 
went energetically and hopefully through quite a 
meritorious performance a few feet away; a deftly 
triumphant juggler did very easily, and directly 
beneath our watchful eyes, some really wonderful 
tricks. A butterfly-gorgeous swarm of insinuating 
smiling peddlers of small things dangled and spread 
their wares where they thought themselves most 
sure of attention. Beyond our own little group we 
saw slowly passing in the lighted street outside the 

22 





'' Camels laden with stone and in convoy of white-clad 
figures shuffled down the slope at a picturesque angle" 



PORT SAID 

portico the variegated and picturesque loungers. 
Across the way a phonograph bawled; our stringed 
orchestra played "The Dollar Princess"; from some- 
where over in the dark and mysterious alleyways 
came the regular beating of a tom-tom. The mag- 
nificent and picturesque town car with its gaudy raga- 
muffins swayed by in train of its diminutive mule. 

Suddenly our persistent and amusing entourage 
vanished in all directions. Standing idly at the 
portico was a very straight, black Soudanese. On 
his head was the usual red fez; his clothing was of 
trim khaki; his knees and feet were bare, with blue 
puttees between; and around his middle was drawn 
close and smooth a blood-red sash at least a foot 
and a half in breadth. He made a fine upstanding 
Egyptian figure, and was armed with pride, a short 
sheathed club, and a great scorn. No word spoke he, 
nor command; but merely jerked a thumb toward the 
darkness, and into the darkness our many-hued horde 
melted away. We were left feeling rather lonesome ! 

Near midnight we sauntered down the street to 
the quai, whence we were rowed to the ship by 
another turbaned, long-robed figure who sweetly 
begged just a copper or so "for poor boatman. " 

We found the ship in the process of coaling, every 
porthole and doorway closed, and heavy canvas 
hung to protect as far as possible the clean decks. 

23 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

Two barges were moored alongside. Two blazing 
braziers lighted them with weird red and flickering 
flames. In their depths, cast in black and red 
shadows, toiled half-guessed figures; from their 
depths, mounting a single steep plank, came an 
unbroken procession of natives, naked save for a 
wisp of cloth around the loins. They trod closely 
on each other's heels, carrying each his basket atop 
his head or on one shoulder, mounted a gangplank, 
discharged their loads into the side of the ship, and 
descended again to the depths by way of another 
plank. The lights flickered across their dark faces, 
their gleaming teeth and eyes. Somehow the work 
demanded a heap of screeching, shouting, and gestic- 
ulation; but somehow also it went forward rapidly. 
Dozens of unattached natives lounged about the 
gunwales with apparently nothing to do but to look 
picturesque. Shore boats moved into the narrow 
circle of light, drifted to our gangway and dis- 
charged huge crates of vegetables, sacks of unknown 
stuffs, and returning passengers. A vigilant police 
boat hovered near to settle disputes, generally with 
the blade of an oar. For a long time we leaned over 
the rail watching them, and the various reflected 
lights in the water, and the very clear, unwavering 
stars. Then, the coaling finished, and the portholes 
once more opened, we turned in. 

24 



I 



IV 

SUEZ 

SOMETIME during the night we must have 
started, but so gently had we slid along at 
fractional speed that until I raised my head and 
looked out I had not realized the fact. I saw a high 
sand bank. This glided monotonously by until I 
grew tired of looking at it; and got up. 

After breakfast, however, I found that the sand 
bank had various attractions all of its own. Three 
camels laden with stone and in convoy of white-clad 
figures shuffled down the slope at a picturesque 
angle. Two cowled women in black, veiled to the 
eyes in gauze heavily sewn with sequins, barefooted, 
with massive silver anklets, watched us pass. 
Hindoo workmen in turban and loin cloth furnished 
a picturesque note, but did not seem to be injuring 
themselves by overexertion. Naked small boys 
raced us for a short distance. The banks glided by 
very slowly and very evenly, the wash sucked after 
us like water in a slough after a duck boat, and the 
sky above the yellow sand looked extremely blue. 

25 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

At short and regular intervals, halfway up the 
minature sandhills, heavy piles or snubbing posts 
had been planted. For these we at first could guess 
no reason. Soon, however, we had to pass another 
ship; and then we saw that one of us must tie up to 
avoid being drawn irresistibly by suction into 
collision with the other. The craft sidled by, 
separated by only a few feet; so that we could look 
across to each other's decks, and exchange greeting. 
As the day grew this interest grew likewise. 
Dredgers in the canal; rusty tramps flying unfamiliar 
flags of strange tiny countries; big freighters, often 
with Greek or Turkish characters on their sterns; 
small, dirty steamers of suspicious business ; passenger 
ships like our own, returning from the tropics, with 
white-clad, languid figures reclining in canvas chairs; 
gunboats of this or that nation bound on mysterious 
affairs; once a P. &. O. converted into a troopship 
from whose every available porthole, hatch, deck, 
and shroud laughing, brown, English faces shouted 
chaff at our German decks — all these either tied 
up for us, or were tied up for by us. The only craft 
that received no consideration on our part were the 
various picturesque Arab dhows, with their single 
masts and the long yards slanting across them. 
Since these were very small, our suction dragged 
at them cruelly. As a usual thing four vociferous 

26 







O ^H 




/ 




m 

CO 



SUEZ 

figures clung desperately to a rope passed around one 
of the snubbing posts ashore, while an old man 
shrieked syllables at them from the dhow itself. 
As they never by any chance thought of mooring 
her both stem and stern, the dhow generally changed 
ends rapidly, shipping considerable water in the proc- 
ess. It must be very trying to get so excited in a 
hot climate. 

The high sand banks of the early part of the day 
soon dropped lower to afford us a wider view. In its 
broad, general features the country was, quite simply, 
the best desert of Arizona over again. There were 
the same high, distant and brittle-looking mountains, 
fragile and pearly; the same low, broken half- 
distances; the same wide sweeps; the same wonderful 
changing effects of light, colour, shadow, and mirage; 
the same occasional strips of green marking the 
water courses and oases. As to smaller detail we 
saw many interesting divergences. In the fore- 
ground constantly recurred the Bedouin brush 
shelters, each with its picturesque figure or so of 
flowing robes, and its grumpy camels. Twice we 
saw travelling caravans, exactly like the Bible 
pictures. At one place a single burnoused Arab, 
leaning on his elbows, reclined full length on the sky- 
line of a clean-cut sand hill. Glittering in the mirage, 
half-guessed, half-seen, we made out distant little 

27 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

white towns with slender palm trees. At places the 
water from the canal had overflowed wide tracts of 
country. Here along the shore we saw thousands of 
the water-fowl already familiar to us, as well as 
such strangers as gaudy kingfishers, ibises, and rosy 
flamingoes. 

The canal itself seemed to be in a continual state 
of repair. Dredgers were everywhere; some of the 
ordinary shovel type, others working by suction, and 
discharging far inland by means of weird huge pipes 
that apparently meandered at will over the face of 
nature. The control stations were beautifully 
French and neat, painted yellow, each with its 
gorgeous bougainvilleas In flower, its square-rigged 
signal masts, its brightly painted extra buoys stand- 
ing in a row, its wharf — and its impassive Arab 
fishermen thereon. We reclined in our canvas chairs, 
had lime squashes brought to us, and watched the 
entertainment steadily and slowly unrolled before us. 

We reached the end of the canal about three 
o'clock of the afternoon, and dropped anchor far off" 
low-lying shores. Our binoculars showed us white 
houses In apparently single rank along a far-reaching 
narrow sand spit, with sparse trees and a railroad 
line. That was the town of Suez, and seemed so 
little interesting that we were not particularly sorry 
that we could not go ashore. Far in the distance 

28 



SUEZ 

were mountains; and the water all about us was the 
light, clear green of the sky at sunset. 

Innumerable dhows and rowboats swarmed down, 
filled with eager salesmen of curios and ostrich 
plumes. They had not much time in which to 
bargain, so they made it up in rapid-fire vociferation. 
One very tall and dignified Arab had as sailor of his 
craft the most extraordinary creature, just above 
the lower limit of the human race. He was of a dull 
coal black, without a single high light on him any- 
where, as though he had been sanded; had prominent 
teeth, like those of a baboon, in a wrinkled, wizened 
monkey face across which were three tattooed bands; 
and possessed a little long-armed spare figure, bent 
and wiry. He clambered up and down his mast, 
fetching things at his master's behest; leaped non- 
chalantly for our rail or his own spar, as the case 
might be, across the staggering abyss; clung so well 
with his toes that he might almost have been classi- 
fied with the quadrumana; and between times 
squatted humped over on the rail watching us with 
bright, elfish, alien eyes. 

At last the big German sailors bundled the whole 
variegated horde overside. It was time to go; and 
our anchor chain was already rumbling in the hawse 
pipes. They tumbled hastily into their boats; and 
at once swarmed up their masts, whence they fever- 

29 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

ishly continued their interrupted bargaining. In 
fact so fully embarked on the tides of commerce 
were they that they failed to notice the tides of 
nature widening between us. One old man, in 
especial, at the very top of his mast, jerked hither 
and thither by the sea, continued imploringly to 
offer an utterly ridiculous carved wooden camel 
long after it was possible to have completed the 
transaction should anybody have been moonstruck 
enough to have desired it. Our ship's prow swung; 
and just at sunset, as the lights of Suez were twin- 
kling out one by one, we headed down the Red Sea. 



30 



THE RED SEA 

SUEZ is indeed the gateway to the East. In the 
Mediterranean often the sea is rough, the 
winds cold, passengers are not yet acquainted and 
hug the saloons or the leeward side of the deck. 
Once through the canal and all is changed by magic. 
The air is hot and languid; the ship's company down 
to the very scullions appear in immaculate white; 
the saloon chairs and transoms even are put in 
white coverings; electric fans hum everywhere; 
the run on lime squashes begins; and many quaint 
and curious customs of the tropics obtain. 

For example; it is etiquette that before eight 
o'clock one may wander the decks at will in one's 
pajamas, converse affably with fair ladies in pigtail 
and kimono, and be not abashed. But on the stroke 
of eight bells it is also, etiquette to disappear very 
promptly and to array one's self for the day; and it is 
very improper indeed to see or be seen after that 
hour in the rather extreme negligee of the early 
morning. Also it becomes the universal custom, or 

31 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

perhaps I should say the necessity, to slumber for 
an hour after the noon meal. Certainly sleep 
descending on the tropical traveller is armed with 
a bludgeon. Passengers, crew, steerage, "deck," 
animal, and bird fall down then in an enchantment. 
I have often wondered who navigates the ship during 
that sacred hour; or, indeed, if anybody navigates 
it at all. Perhaps that time is sacred to the genii 
of the old East, who close all prying mortal eyes, but 
in return lend a guiding hand to the most pressing 
of mortal affairs. The deck of the ship is a curious 
sight between the hours of half-past one and three. 
The tropical siesta requires no couching of the form. 
You sit down in your chair, with a book — you fade 
slowly into a deep, restful slumber. And yet it is a 
slumber wherein certain small pleasant things persist 
from the world outside. You remain dimly conscious 
of the rhythmic throbbing of the engines, of the beat 
of soft, warm air on your cheek. 

At three o'clock or thereabout you rise as gently 
back to life; and sit erect in your chair without a 
stretch or a yawn in your whole anatomy. Then 
is the one time of day for a display of energy — if 
you have any to display. Ship games, walks — 
fairly brisk — explorations to the forecastle, a 
watch for flying fish or Arab dhows, anything until 
tea time. Then the glowing sunset; the opalescent 

32 



THE RED SEA 

sea, and the soft afterglow of the sky — and the 
bugle summoning you to dress. That is a mean 
job. Nothing could possibly swelter worse than 
the tiny cabin. The electric fan is an aggravation. 
You reappear in your fresh "whites" somewhat 
warm and flustered in both mind and body. A turn 
around the deck cools you off; and dinner restores 
your equanimity — dinner with the soft, warm 
tropic air breathing through all the wide-open ports ; 
the electric fans drumming busily; the men all in 
clean white; the ladies, the very few precious ladies, 
in soft, low gowns. After dinner the deck, as near 
cool as it will be, and bare heads to the breeze of our 
progress and glowing cigars. At ten or eleven 
o'clock the groups begin to break up, the canvas 
chairs to empty. Soon reappears a pajamaed figure 
followed by a steward carrying a mattress. This is 
spread, under its owner's direction, in a dark corner 
forward. With a sigh you in your turn plunge down 
into the sweltering inferno of your cabin, only to 
reappear likewise with a steward and a mattress. 
The latter, if you are wise, you spread where the 
wind of the ship's going will be full upon you. It is 
a strong wind and blows upon you heavily so that 
the sleeves and legs of your pajamas flop, but it is a 
soft, warm wind, and beats you as with muffled 
fingers. In no temperate clime can you ever enjoy 

33 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

this peculiar effect, of a strong breeze on your naked 
skin without even the faintest surface chillysensation. 
So habituated has one become to feeling cooler in a 
draught that the absence of chill lends the night an 
unaccustomedness, the more weird in that it is 
unanalyzed, so that one feels definitely that one is 
in a strange, far country. This is intensified by the 
fact that in these latitudes the moon, the great, 
glorious, calm tropical moon, is directly overhead ^ — 
follows the centre line of the zenith — instead of, 
as with us in our temperate zone, always more or 
less declined to the horizon. This too lends the 
night an exotic quality, the more effective in that at 
first the reason for it is not apprehended. 

A night in the tropics is always more or less 
broken. One awakens, and sleeps again. Motion- 
less white-clad figures, cigarettes glowing, are 
lounging against the rail looking out over a molten 
sea. The moonlight lies in patterns across the deck, 
shivering slightly under the throb of the engines, or 
occasionally swaying slowly forward or slowly back 
as the ship'scourse changes, but otherwise motionless, 
for here the sea is always calm. You raise your head, 
look about, sprawl in a new position on your mattress, 
fall asleep. On one of these occasions you find 
unexpectedly that the velvet-gray night has become 
steel-gray dawn; and that the kindly old quarter- 

H 



I 



THE RED SEA 

master is bending over you. Sleepily, very sleepily, 
you stagger to your feet and collapse into the nearest 
chair. Then to the swish of waters as the sailors 
sluice the decks all around and under you, you fall 
into a really deep sleep. 

At six o'clock this is broken by chota-hahzari, 
another tropical institution, consisting merely of 
clear tea and crackers. I never could get to care 
for it, but nowhere in the tropics could I head it off. 
No matter how tired I was or how dead sleepy, I had 
to receive that confounded chota-hahzari. Throwing 
things at the native who brought it did no good at 
all. He merely dodged. Admonition did no good, 
nor prohibition in strong terms. I was but one 
white man of the whole white race; and I had no 
right to possess idiosyncrasies running counter to 
Distauri, the Custom. However, as the early hours 
are the profitable hours in the tropics, it did not 
drive me to homicide. 

The ship's company now developed. Our two 
prize members fortunately for us, sat at our table. 
The first was the Swedish Professor aforementioned. 
He was large, benign, paternal, broad in mind, 
thoroughly human and beloved, and yet profoundly 
erudite. He was our iconoclast in the way of food; 
for he performed small but illuminating dissections 
on his plate, and announced triumphantly results 

35 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

that were not a bit in accordance with the menu. 
A single bone was sufficient to take the pretension out 
of any fish. Our other particular friend was C, 
with whom later we travelled in the interior of 
Africa. C. is a very celebrated hunter and explorer, 
an old Africander, his face seamed and tanned by 
many years in a hard climate. For several days 
we did not recognize him, although he sat fairly 
alongside; but put him down as a shy man and let 
it go at that. He never stayed for the long table 
d'hote dinners; but fell upon the first solid course 
and made a complete meal from that. When he had 
quite finished eating all he could; he drank all he 
could; then he departed from the table, and took 
up a remote and inaccessible position in the corner 
of the smoking room. He was engaged in growing 
the beard he customarily wore in the jungle; a most 
fierce outstanding Mohammedan-looking beard that 
terrified the intrusive into submission. And yet 
Bwana C. possessed the kindest blue eyes in the 
world, full of quiet patience, great understanding 
and infinite gentleness. His manner was abrupt and 
uncompromising; but he would do anything in the 
world for one who stood in need of him. From 
women he fled; yet Billy won him with infinite 
patience, and in the event they became the closest 
of friends. Withal he possessed a pair of the most 

3^ 



THE RED SEA 

powerful shoulders I have ever seen on a man of his 
frame; and in the depths of his mild blue eyes 
flickered a flame of resolution that I could well 
imagine flaring up to something formidable. Slow 
to make friends, but staunch and loyal; gentle and 
forbearing, but fierce and implacable in action; at 
once loved and most terribly feared; shy as a wild 
animal, but straightforward and undeviating in 
his human relations; most remarkably quiet and 
unassuming, but with tremendous vital force in his 
deep eyes and forward-thrust jaw; informed with the 
widest and most understanding humanity, but 
unforgiving of evildoers; and with the most direct 
and absolute courage, Bwana C. was to me the most 
interesting man I met in Africa, and became the 
best of my friends. 

The only other man at our table happened to be, 
for our sins, the young Englishman mentioned as 
throwing the first coin to the old woman on the pier 
at Marseilles. We will call him Brown; and, 
because he represents a type, he is worth looking 
upon for a moment. 

He was of the super-enthusiastic sort; bubbling 
over with vitality; in and out of everything; bounding 
up at odd and languid moments. To an extra- 
ordinary extent he was afflicted with the spiritual 
blindness of his class. Quite genuinely, quite 

37 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

seriously, he was unconscious of the human signifi- 
cance of beings and institutions belonging to a 
foreign country or even to a class other than his own. 
His own kind he treated as complete and under- 
standable human creatures. All others were merely 
objective. As we, to a certain extent, happened to 
fall in the former category, he was as pleasant to us 
as possible — that is, he was pleasant to us in his 
way, but had not insight enough to guess at how to 
be pleasant to us in our way. But as soon as he got 
out of his own class, or what he conceived to be such, 
he considered all people as "outsiders. " He did not 
credit them with prejudices to rub, with feelings to 
hurt, indeed hardly with ears to overhear. Provided 
his subject was an "outsider" he had not the 
slightest hesitancy in saying exactly what he thought 
about any one, anywhere, always in his high, clear 
English voice, no matter what the time or occasion. 
As a natural corollary he always rebuffed beggars 
and the like brutally; and was always quite sublimely 
doing little things that thoroughly shocked our sense 
of the other fellow's rights as a human being. In all 
this he did not mean to be cruel nor inconsiderate. 
It was just the way he was built; and it never 
entered his head that "such people" had ears and 
brains. 

In the rest of the ship's company were a dozen or 

38 



THE RED SEA 

so other Englishmen of the upper classes, either 
army men on shooting trips, or youths going out 
with some idea of settling in the country. They 
were a clean-built pleasant lot, good people to know 
anywhere; but of no unusual interest. It was only 
when one went abroad into the other nations that 
inscribable human interest could be found. 

There was the Greek, Scutari, and his bride, a 
languorous rather opulent beauty, with large dark 
eyes for all men, and a luxurious manner of lying 
back and fanning herself. She talked, soft voiced, 
in half a dozen languages, changing from one to the 
other without a break in either her fluency or her 
thought. Her little lithe active husband sat around 
and adored her. He was apparently a very able 
citizen indeed, for he was going out to take charge 
of the construction work on a German Railway. 
To have filched so important a job from the Ger- 
man's themselves shows that he must have had abil- 
ity. With them were a middle-aged Holland couple 
engaged conscientiously in travelling over the globe. 
They had been everywhere — the two American 
hemispheres, from one Arctic Sea to another, Siberia, 
China, the Malay Archipelago, this, that, and the 
other odd corner of the world. Always they sat 
placidly side by side, either in the saloon or on deck, 
smiling benignly, and conversing in spaced com- 

39 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

fortable syllables with everybody who happened 
along. Mrs. Breemen worked industriously on 
some kind of feminine gear, and explained to all 
and sundry that she travelled "to see de sceenery 
wid my hoosband. " 

Also in this group was a small, wiry German 
Doctor who had lived for many years in the far 
interior of Africa, and was now returning after his 
vacation. He was a little man, bright-eyed and 
keen, with a clear complexion and hard flesh, in 
striking and agreeable contrast to most of his 
compatriots. The latter were trying to drink all 
the beer on the ship; but as she had been stocked 
for an eighty-day voyage, of which this was but the 
second week, they were not making noticeable 
headway. However, they did not seem to be easily 
discouraged. The Herr Doktor was most polite 
and attentive, but as we did not talk German nor 
much Swahili; and he had neither English nor much 
French, we had our difficulties. I have heard Billy 
in talking to him scatter fragments of these four 
languages through a single sentence I 

For several days we drifted down a warm flat sea. 
Then one morning we came on deck to find ourselves 
close aboard a number of volcanic islands. They 
were composed entirely of red and dark purple lava 
blocks, rugged, quite without vegetation save for 

40 



THE RED SEA 

occasional patches of stringy green in a gully; and 
uninhabited except for a lighthouse on one, and a 
fishing shanty near the shores of another. The 
high, mournful mountains with their dark shadows 
seemed to brood over hot desolation. The rusted 
and battered stern of a wrecked steamer stuck up 
at an acute angle from the surges. Shortly after we 
picked up the shores of Arabia. 

Note the advantages of a half ignorance. From 
early childhood we had thought of Arabia as the 
''burning desert" — flat, of course — and of the 
Red Sea as bordered by "shifting sands" alone. 
If we had known the truth — if we had not been 
half ignorant — we would have missed the profound 
surprise of discovering that in reality the Red Sea 
is bordered by high and rugged mountains, leaving 
just space enough between themselves and the shore 
for a sloping plain on which our glasses could make 
out occasional palms. Perhaps the "shifting sands 
of the burning desert" lie somewhere beyond; but 
somebody might have mentioned these great moun- 
tains! After examining them attentively we had 
to confess that if this sort of thing continued 
farther north, the children of Israel must have had 
a very hard time of it. Mocha shone white, glitter- 
ing and low, with the red and white spire of a mosque 
rising brilliantly above it. 

41 



VI 
ADEN 

IT WAS cooler; and for a change we had turned 
into our bunks, when B. pounded on our state- 
room door. 

''In the name of the Eternal East," said he, 
"come on deck I" 

We slipped on kimonos and joined the row of 
scantily draped and interested figures along the rail. 

The ship lay quite still on a perfect sea of moon- 
light bordered by a low flat distant shore on one side, 
and nearer mountains on the other. A strong flare 
centred from two ship reflectors overside made 
a focus of illumination that subdued, but could not 
quench, the soft moonlight with which all outside 
was silvered. A dozen boats striving against a 
current or clinging as best they could to the ship's 
side glided into the light and became real and solid; 
or dropped back into the ghostly white insubstanti- 
ability of the moon. They were long narrow boats, 
with small flush decks fore and aft. We looked 
down on them from almost directly above, so that 

42 







H 
:S 

I 
> 

I 

o 




*' We waited patiently to see the camels slung aboard 
by the crane" 



ADEN 

we saw the thwarts and the ribs and the things they 
contained. 

Astern in each stood men, bending gracefully 
against the thrust of long sweeps. About their 
waists were squares of cloth, wrapped twice and 
tucked in. Otherwise they were naked, and the 
long smooth muscles of their slender bodies rippled 
under the skin. The latter was of a beautiful 
fine texture, and chocolate brown. These men had 
keen intelligent clear-cut faces, of the Greek order, 
as though the statues of a garden had been stained 
brown and had come to life. They leaned on their 
sweeps, thrusting slowly but strongly against the 
little wind and current that would drift them back. 

In the body of the boats crouched, sat, or lay a 
picturesque mob. Some pulled spasmodically on 
the very long limber oars; others squatted doing 
nothing; some, huddled shapelessly underneath 
white cloths that completely covered them, slept 
soundly in the bottom. We took these for mer- 
chandise until one of them suddenly threw aside his 
covering and sat up. Others again poised in proud 
and graceful attitudes on the extreme prows of their 
bobbing craft. Especially decorative were two 
clad only in immense white turbans and white cloths 
about the waist. An old Arab with a white beard 
stood midships in one boat quite motionless except 

43 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

for the slight swaying necessary to preserve his 
equilibrium, his voluminous white draperies flutter- 
ing in the wind, his dark face just distinguishable 
under his burnouse. Most of the men were Somalis, 
however. Their keen small faces, slender but 
graceful necks, slim, well-formed torsos bending to 
every movement of the boat, and the white or 
gaudy draped nether garments were as decorative 
as the figures on an Egyptian tomb. One or two 
of the more barbaric had made neat headdresses of 
white clay plastered in the form of a skullcap. 

After an interval a small and fussy tugboat 
steamed around our stern and drew alongside the 
gangway. Three passengers disembarked from her 
and made their way aboard. The main deck of the 
craft under an awning was heavily encumbered with 
trunks, tin boxes, hand baggage, tin bathtubs, gun 
cases and all sorts of impedimenta. The tugboat 
moored itself to us fore and aft, and proceeded 
to think about discharging. Perhaps twenty men 
in accurate replica of those in the small boats had 
charge of the job. They had their own methods. 
After a long interval devoted strictly to nothing, 
some unfathomable impulse would incite one or two 
or three of the natives to tackle a trunk. At it 
they tugged and heaved and pushed in the manner 
of ants making oif with a particularly large fly or 

44 



ADEN 

other treasure trove, teasing it up the steep gang- 
way to the level of our decks. The trunks once 
safely bestowed, all interest, all industry died. We 
thought that finished it; and wondered why the tug 
did not pull out of the way. But always, after an 
interval, another bright idea would strike another 
native or natives. He — or they — would disap- 
pear beneath the canvas awning over the tug's deck, 
to emerge shortly carrying almost anything, from 
a parasol to a heavy chest. 

On close inspection they proved to be a very 
small people. The impression of graceful height 
had come from the slenderness and justness of their 
proportions, the smallness of their bones, and the 
upright grace of their carriage. After standing 
alongside one, we acquired a fine respect for their 
ability to handle those trunks at all. 

Moored to the other side of the ship we found two 
huge lighters from which bales of goods were being 
hoisted aboard. Two camels and a dozen diminu- 
tive mules stood in the waist of one of these craft. 
The camels were as sniffy and supercilious and 
scornful as camels always are; and everybody 
promptly hated them with the hatred of the abys- 
mally inferior spirit for something that scorns it, 
as is the usual attitude of the human mind toward 
camels. We waited for upward of an hour in the 

45 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

hope of seeing those camels hoisted aboard; but 
in vain. While we were so waiting one of the deck 
passengers below us, a Somali in white clothes and 
a gorgeous cerise turban decided to turn in. He 
spread a square of thin matting atop one of the 
hatches, and began to unwind yards and yards of 
the fine. silk turban. He came to the end of it — 
whisk! he sank to the deck; the turban, spread open 
by the resistance of the air, fluttered down to cover 
him from head to foot. Apparently he fell asleep 
at once, for he did not again move nor alter his 
position. He, as well as an astonishingly large 
proportion of the other Somalls and Abyssinians we 
saw, carried a queer, well-defined, triangular wound 
in his head. It had long since healed, was an inch 
or so across, and looked as though a piece of the skull 
had been removed. If a conscientious enemy had 
leisure and an ice pick he would do just about that 
sort of a job. How its recipient had escaped instant 
death is a mystery. 

At length, about three o'clock, despairing of the 
camels, we turned in. 

After three hours' sleep we were again on deck. 
Aden by daylight seemed to be several sections of a 
town tucked into pockets in bold, raw, lava mountains 
that came down fairly to the water's edge. Between 
these pockets ran a narrow shore road; and along the 

46 



ADEN 

road paced haughty camels hitched to diminutive 
carts. On contracted round bluffs toward the sea 
were various low bungalow buildings which, we were 
informed, comprised the military and civil officers' 
quarters. The real Aden has been built inland a 
short distance at the bottom of a cup in the moun- 
tains. Elaborate stone reservoirs have been con- 
structed to catch rain water, as there is no other 
natural water supply whatever. The only difficulty 
is that it practically never rains; so the reservoirs 
stand empty, the water is distilled from the sea, 
and the haughty camels and the little carts do the 
distributing. 

The lava mountains occupy one side of the 
spacious bay or gulf. The foot of the bay and the 
other side are fiat, with one or two very distant 
white villages, and many heaps of glittering salt as 
big as houses. 

We waited patiently at the rail for an hour more 
to see the camels slung aboard by the crane. It was 
worth the wait. They lost their impassive and 
immemorial dignity completely, sprawling, groaning, 
positively shrieking in dismay. When the solid 
deck rose to them, and the sling had been loosened, 
however, they regained their poise instantaneously. 
Their noses went up in the air, and they looked 
about them with a challenging, unsmiling superiority, 

47 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

as though to dare any one of us to laugh. Their 
native attendants immediately squatted down in 
front of them and began to feed them with con- 
venient lengths of what looked like our common 
marsh cattails. The camels did not even then 
manifest the slightest interest in the proceedings. 
Indeed, they would not condescend to reach out three 
inches for the most luscious tidbit held that far 
from their aristocratic noses. The attendants had 
actually to thrust the fodder between their jaws. 
I am glad to say they condescended to chew. 



48 



VII 
THE INDIAN OCEAN 

IEAVING Aden, and rounding the great prom- 
^ ontory of Cape Gardafui, we turned south 
along the coast of Africa. Off the cape were strange, 
oily cross rips and currents on the surface of the sea; 
the flying fish rose in flocks before our bows; high 
mountains of peaks and flat table tops thrust their 
summits into clouds; and along the coast the breakers 
spouted like whales. For the first time, too, we 
began to experience what our preconceptions had 
Imagined as tropical heat. Heretofore we had been 
hot enough, in all conscience, but the air had felt as 
though wafted from an opened furnace door — dry 
and scorching. Now, although the temperature was 
lower,* the humidity was greater. A swooning 
languor was abroad over the spellbound ocean, a 
relaxing mist of enchantment. My glasses were 
constantly clouding over with a fine coating of 
water drops; exposed metal rusted overnight; the 
folds i n garments accumulated mildew in an as- 

*82-88° in daytime, and 75-83** at night. 

49 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

tonishingly brief period of time. There was never 
even the suggestion of chill in this dampness. It 
clung and enveloped like a grateful garment; and 
seemed only to lack sweet perfume. 

At this time, by good fortune, it happened that 
the moon came full. We had enjoyed its waxing 
during our voyage down the Red Sea; but now it had 
reached its greatest phase, and hung over the 
slumbering tropic ocean like a lantern. The lazy sea 
stirred beneath it, and the ship glided on, its lights 
fairlysubdued by the splendour of the waters. Under 
the awnings the ship's company lounged in lazy 
attitudes or promenaded slowly, talking low voiced, 
cigars glowing in the splendid dusk. Overside, in 
the furrow of the disturbed waters, the phosphores- 
cence flashed perpetually beneath the shadow of the 
ship. 

The days passed by languidly and all alike. On 
the chart outside the smoking-room door the process 
sion of tiny German flags on pins marched steadily, 
an inch at a time, toward the south. Otherwise we 
might as well have imagined ourselves midgets 
afloat in a pond and getting nowhere. 

Somewhere north of the equator — before Father 
Neptune in ancient style had come aboard and 
ducked the lot of us — we were treated to the 
spectacle of how the German "sheep" reacts under 

so 



THE INDIAN OCEAN 

a joke. Each nation has its type of fool; and all, 
for the joyousness of mankind, diifer. On the 
bulletin board one evening appeared a notice to the 
effect that the following morning a limited number 
of sportsmen would be permitted ashore for the day. 
Each was advised to bring his own lunch, rifle, and 
drinks. The reason alleged was that the ship must 
round a certain cape across which the sportsmen 
could march afoot in enough shorter time to permit 
them a little shooting. 

Now aboard ship were a dozen English, four 
Americans, and thirty or forty Germans. The 
Americans and English looked upon that bulletin, 
smiled gently and went to order another round of 
lime squashes. It was a meek, mild, little joke 
enough; but surely the bulletin board was as far as it 
could possibly go. Next morning, however, we 
observed a half dozen of our German friends in 
khaki and sun helmet, very busy with lunch boxes, 
bottles of beer, rifles, and the like. They said they 
were going ashore as per bulletin. We looked at 
each other and hied us to the upper deck. There we 
found one of the boats slung overside, with our old 
friend the Quartermaster ostentatiously stowing kegs 
of water, boxes and the like. 

*' When," we inquired gently, "does the expedition 
start.?" 

51 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

"At ten o'clock, " said he. 

It was now within fifteen minutes of that hour. 
We were at the time fully ten miles off shore, and 
forging ahead full speed parallel with the coast. 

We pointed out this fact to the Quartermaster, but 
found to our sorrow that the poor old man had 
suddenly gone deaf! We, therefore, refrained from 
asking several other questions that had occurred 
to us, such as. Why the cape was not shown on the 
map? 

" Somebody, " said one of the Americans, a cowboy 
going out second class on a look for new cattle coun- 
try, "is a goat. It sure looks to me like it was these 
yere steamboat people. They can't expect to rope 
nothing on such a raw deal as thisl" 

To which the English assented, though in different 
idiom. 

But now up the companion ladder struggled eight 
serious-minded individuals herded by the second 
mate. They were armed to the teeth and thoroughly 
equipped with things I had seen in German cata- ^ 
logues, but in whose existence I had never believed. 
A half-dozen sailors eagerly helped them with their 
multitudinous effects. Not a thought gave they to 
the fact that we were ten miles off the coast, that 
we gave no indication of slackening speed, that it 
would take the rest of the day to row ashore, that 

52 



THE INDIAN OCEAN 

there was no cape for us to round, that if there 
were — oh I all the other hundred improbabilities 
peculiar to the situation. Under direction of the 
mate they deposited their impedimenta beneath a 
tarpaulin, and took their places in solemn rows 
amidships across the thwarts of the boat slung 
overside. The importance of the occasion sat 
upon them heavily; they were going ashore — in 
Africa — to Slay Wild Beasts. They looked upon 
themselves as of bolder, sterner stuff than the rest 
of us. 

When the procession first appeared, our cowboy's 
face for a single instant had flamed with amazed 
incredulity. Then a mask of expressionless stolidity 
fell across his features, which in no line thereafter 
varied one iota. 

"What are they going to do with them?" mur- 
mured one of the Englishmen, at a loss. 

"I reckon," said the cowboy, "that they look on 
this as the easiest way to drown them all to onct. " 

Then from behind one of the other boats suddenly 
appeared a huge German sailor with a hose. The 
devoted imbeciles in the shore boat were drenched 
as by a cloudburst. Back and forth and up and 
down the heavy stream played, while every other 
human being about the ship shrieked with joy. 
Did the victims rise up in a body and capture that 

53 



AFRICAN CAMP FlRES 

hose nozzle and turn the stream to sweep the decks? 
Did they duck for shelter? did they at least know 
enough to scatter and run? They did none of these 
things; but sat there in meek little rows like manni- 
kins until the boat was half full of water and every- 
thing awash. Then, when the sailor shut off the 
stream, they continued to sit there until the mate 
came to order them out. Why? I cannot tell you. 
Perhaps that is the German idea of how to take a 
joke. Perhaps they were afraid worse things might be 
consequent on resistance. Perhaps they still hoped 
to go ashore. One of the Englishmen asked just 
that question. 

"What," he demanded disgustedly, ''what is the 
matter with the beggars?" 

Our cowboy may have had the correct solution. 
He stretched his long legs and jumped down from 
the rail. 

"Nothing stirring above the ears," said he. 

It is customary in books of travel to describe this 
part of the journey about as follows: "skirting 
the low and uninteresting shores of Africa we at 
length reached," etc. Low and uninteresting shores! 
Through the glasses we made out distant mountains 
far beyond nearer hills. The latter were green- 
covered with dense forests whence rose mysterious 
smokes. Along the shore we saw an occasional 

54 



THE INDIAN OCEAN 

coconut plantation to the water's edge and native 
huts and villages of thatch. Canoes of strange 
models lay drawn up on shelving beaches; queer 
fish-pounds of brush reached out considerable 
distances from the coast. The white surf pounded 
on a yellow beach. 

All about these things was the jungle, hemming 
in the plantations and villages, bordering the lagoons, 
creeping down until it fairly overhung the yellow 
beaches; as though, conqueror through all the 
country beyond, it were half-inclined to dispute 
dominion with old Ocean himself. It looked from 
the distance like a thick, soft coverlet thrown down 
over the country; following, or, rather, suggesting, 
the inequalities. Through the glasses we were 
occasionally able to peek under the edge of this 
coverlet, and see where the fringe of the jungle drew 
back in a little pocket, or to catch the sheen of 
mysterious dark rivers slipping to the sea. Up 
these dark rivers, by way of the entrances of these 
tiny pockets, the imagination then could lead on 
into the dimness beneath the sunlit upper surfaces. 

Toward the close of one afternoon we changed 
our course slightly and swung in on a long slant 
toward the coast. We did it casually; too casually 
for so very important an action, for now at last we 
were about to touch the mysterious continent. 

55 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

Then we saw clearer the fine, big groves of palm and 
the luxuriance of the tropical vegetation. Against 
the greenery, bold and white, shone the buildings of 
Mombasa; and after a little while more we saw an 
inland glitter that represented her narrow, deep bay, 
the stern of a wreck against the low, green cliffs, and 
strange, fat-trunked squat trees without leaves. 
Straight past all this we glided at half speed, then 
turned sharp to the right to enter a long, wide ex- 
panse, like a river with green banks, twenty feet or so 
in height, grown thickly with the tall coconut palms. 
These gave way at times into broad, low lagoons, at 
the end of which were small beaches and boats, and 
native huts among more coconut groves. Through 
our glasses we could see the black men watching us, 
quite motionless, squatted on their heels. 

It was like suddenly entering another world, this 
gliding from the open sea straight into the heart of 
a green land. The ceaseless wash of waves we had 
left outside with the ocean; our engines had fallen 
silent. Across the hushed waters came to us strange 
chantings and the beating of a tom-tom, an oc- 
casional shrill shout from the unknown jungle. 
The sun was just set, and the tops of the palms 
caught the last rays; all below was dense green 
shadow. Across the surface of the water glided 
dugout canoes of shapes strange to us. We passed 

56 



THE INDIAN OCEAN 

ancient ruins almost completely dismantled, their 
stones half-smothered in green rank growth. The 
wide riverlike bay stretched on before us as far as 
the waning light permitted us to see; finally losing 
itself in the heart of mystery. 

Steadily and confidently our ship steamed for- 
ward, until at last, when we seemed to be afloat in 
a land-locked lake, we dropped anchor and came 
to rest. 

Darkness fell utterly before the usual quarantine 
regulations had been carried through. Active and 
efficient agents had already taken charge of our 
affairs, so we had only to wait idly by the rail until 
summoned. Then we jostled our way down the 
long gangway, passed and repassed by natives 
carrying baggage or returning for more baggage, 
stepped briskly aboard a very bobby little craft, 
clambered over a huge pile of baggage, and stowed 
ourselves as best we could. A figure in a long white 
robe sat astern, tiller ropes in hand; two half-naked 
blacks far up toward the prow manipulated a pair of 
tremendous sweeps. With a vast heaving, jabbering, 
and shouting our boat disengaged itself from the 
swarm of other craft. We floated around the stern 
of our ship — and were immediately suspended in 
blackness dotted with the stars and their reflections 
and with various, twinkling, scattered lights. To one 

57 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

of these we steered; and presently touched at a stone 
quai with steps. At last we set foot on the land to 
which so long we had journeyed and toward which 
so great our expectations had grown. We experi- 
enced "the pleasure that touches the souls of men 
landing on strange shores. " 



S8 



VIII 
MOMBASA 

A SINGLE light shone at the end of the stone 
quai, and another inside a big indeterminate 
building at some distance. We stumbled toward 
this, and found it to be the biggest shed ever con- 
structed out of corrugated iron. A bearded Sikh 
stood on guard at its open entrance. He let any one 
and every one enter, with never a flicker of his 
expressionless black eyes; but allowed no one to go 
out again without the closest scrutiny for dutiable 
articles that lacked the blue customs paster. We 
entered. The place was vast and barnlike and dim, 
and very, very hot. A half-dozen East Indians stood 
behind the counters; another, a babu, sat at a little 
desk ready to give his clerical attention to what might 
be required. We saw no European ; but next morning 
found that one passed his daylight hours in this in- 
ferno of heat. For the moment we let our main bag- 
gage go, and occupied ourselves only with getting 
through our smaller effects. This accomplished, we 
stepped out past the Sikh into the grateful night. 

59 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

We had as guide a slender and wiry individual 
clad in tarboosh and long white robe. In a vague 
general way we knew that the town of Mombasa, 
was across the island and about four miles distant. 
In what direction or how we got there we had not 
the remotest idea. 

The guide set off at a brisk pace with which we 
tried in vain to keep step. He knew the ground, 
and we did not; and the night was black-dark. 
Commands to stop were of no avail whatever; nor 
could we get hold of him to restrain him by force. 
When we put on speed he put on speed too. His 
white robe glimmered ahead of us just in sight; and 
in the darkness other white robes, passing and 
crossing, glimmered also. At first the ground was 
rough, so that we stumbled outrageously. Billy 
and B. soon fell behind, and I heard their voices 
calling plaintively for us to slow down a bit. 

*^If I ever lose this nigger I'll never find him 
again," I shouted back, "but I can find you. Do 
the best you can!" 

We struck a smoother road that led up a hill on 
a long slant. Apparently for miles we followed 
thus, the white-robed individual ahead still deaf to 
all commands and the blood-curdling threats I had 
now come to uttering. All our personal baggage 
had long since mysteriously disappeared, ravished 

60 




Vasco da Gam a Street, the principal thoroughfare 
of Mombasa 




The trolley car of Mombasa 




In the Ivory market of Mombasa 




The labour of Africa is carried forward by song 



MOMBASA 

away from us at the customs house by a ragged 
horde of blacks. It began to look as though we 
were stranded in Africa without baggage or effects. 
Billy and B. were all the time growing fainter in the 
distance, though evidently they too had struck the 
long, slanting road. 

Then we came to a dim, solitary lantern glowing 
feebly beside a bench at what appeared to be the top 
of the hill. Here our guide at last came to a halt 
and turned to me a grinning face. 

''Samama hapa,^^ he observed. 

There! That was the word I had been frantically 
searching my memory for! Samama — stop! 

The others struggled in. We were very warm. 
Up to the bench led a tiny car track, the rails not 
over two feet apart, like the toy railroads children 
use. This did not look much like grown-up trans- 
portation, but it and the bench and the dim lantern 
represented all the visible world. 

We sat philosophically on the bench and enjoyed 
the soft tropical night. The air was tepid, heavy 
with unknown perfume, black as a band of velvet 
across the eyes, musical with the subdued undertones 
of a thousand thousand night insects. At points 
overhead the soft, blind darkness melted imper- 
ceptibly into stars. 

After a long interval we distinguished a distant 

6i 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

faint rattling, that each moment increased in loud- 
ness. Shortly came into view along the narrow 
tracks a most extraordinary vehicle. It was a 
small square platform on wheels across which ran a 
bench seat, and over which spread a canopy. It 
carried also a dim lantern. This rumbled up to us 
and stopped. From its stern hopped two black boys. 
Obeying a smiling invitation, we took our places on 
the bench. The two boys immediately set to push- 
ing us along the narrow track. 

We were off at an astonishing speed through the 
darkness. The night was deliciously tepid; and, 
as I have said, absolutely dark. We made out the 
tops of palms and the dim loom of great spreading 
trees, and could smell sweet, soft odours. The bare- 
headed, lightly clad boys pattered alongside whenever 
the grade was easy, one hand resting against the rail; 
or pushed mightily up little hills; or clung alongside 
like monkeys while we rattled and swooped and 
plunged down hill into the darkness. Subsequently 
we learned that a huge flat beam projecting amid- 
ships from beneath the seat operated a brake which 
we above were supposed to manipulate; but being 
quite ignorant as to the ethics and mechanics of this 
strange street-car system, we swung and swayed at 
times quite breathlessly. 

After about fifteen minutes we began to pick up 

62 



MOMBASA 

lights ahead, then to pass dimly seen garden walls 
with trees whose brilliant flowers the lantern re- 
vealed fitfully. At last we made out white stucco 
houses; and shortly drew up with a flourish before 
the hotel itself. 

This was a two-story stucco afi"air, with deep 
verandas sunken in at each story. It fronted a 
wide white street facing a public garden; and this, 
we subsequently discovered, was about the only 
clear and open space in all the narrow town. Ante- 
lope horns were everywhere hung on the walls; and 
teakwood easy chairs with rests on which com- 
fortably to elevate your feet above your head stood 
all about. We entered a bare brick-floored dining- 
room, and partook of tropical fruits quite new to us 
— papayas, mangoes, custard apples, pawpaws, and 
the small red eating bananas too delicate for export. 
Overhead the punkahs swung back and forth in lazy 
hypnotic rhythm. We could see the two blacks at 
the ends of the punkah cords outside on the ve- 
randa, their bodies swaying lithely in alternation as 
they threw their weight against the light ropes. 
Other blacks, in the long white robes and exquisitely 
worked white skullcaps of the Swahili, glided noise- 
lessly on bare feet, serving. 

After dinner we sat out until midnight in the 
teakwood chairs of the upper gallery, staring through 

63 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

the arches into the black, mysterious night, for it 
was very hot; and we rather dreaded the necessary 
mosquito veils as likely to prove stuffy. The mos- 
quitoes are few in Mombasa, but they are very, 
very deadly. At midnight the thermometer stood 
87° F. 

Our premonitions as to stuffiness were well justi- 
fied. After a restless night we came awake at 
daylight to the sound of a fine row of some sort 
going on outside in the streets. Immediately we 
arose, threw aside the lattices, and hung out over 
the sill. 

The chalk-white road stretched before us. Op- 
posite was a public square grown with brilliant 
flowers, and flowering trees. We could not doubt 
the cause of the trouble. An Indian on a bicycle, 
hurrying to his office, had knocked down a native 
child. Said child, quite naked, sat in the middle 
of the white dust and howled to rend the heavens — 
whenever he felt himself observed. If, however, 
the attention of the crowd happened for the moment 
to be engrossed with the babu, the injured one sat 
up straight and watched the row with interested 
rolling pickaninny eyes. A native policeman made 
the centre of a whirling, vociferating group. He was 
a fine-looking chap, straight and soldierly, dressed 
in red tarboosh, khaki coat bound close around the 

64 



MOMBASA 

waist by yards and yards of broad red webbing, loose, 
short drawers of khaki, bare knees and feet, and blue 
puttees between. His manner was inflexible. The 
babu jabbered excitedly; telling, in all probability, 
how he was innocent of fault, was late for his work, 
etc. In vain. He had to go; also the kid, who now, 
seeing himself again an object of interest, recom- 
menced his howling. Then the babu began franti- 
cally to indicate members of the crowd whom he 
desired to retain as witnesses. Evidently not 
pleased with the prospect of appearing in court, 
those indicated promptly ducked and ran. The 
policeman as promptly pursued and collared them 
one by one. He was a long-legged policeman, and 
he ran well. The moment he laid hands on a 
fugitive, the latter collapsed; whereupon the police- 
man dropped him and took after another. The 
joke of it was that the one so abandoned did not 
try again to make off, but stayed as though he had 
been tagged at some game. Finally the whole lot, 
still vociferating, moved off down the white road. 

For over an hour we hung from our window sill 
thoroughly interested and amused by the varied life 
that deployed before our eyes. The morning 
seemed deliciously cool after the hot night, although 
the thermometer stood 79°. The sky was very blue, 
with big piled white clouds down near the horizon. 

65 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

Dazzling sun shone on the white road, the white 
buildings visible up and down the street, the white 
walls enclosing their gardens, and the greenery and 
colours of the trees within them. For from what 
we could see from our window we immediately 
voted tropical vegetation quite up to advertisement. 
Whole trees of gaudy red or yellow or bright orange 
blossoms, flowering vines, flowering shrubs, peered 
over the walls or through the fences; and behind 
them rose great mangoes or the slenderer shafts of 
bananas and coconut palms. 

Up and down wandered groups of various sorts 
of natives. A month later we would have been able 
to identify their different tribes and to know more 
about them; but now we wondered at them as strange 
and picturesque peoples. They impressed us in gen- 
eral as being a fine lot of men, for they were of good 
physique, carried themselves well, and looked about 
them with a certain dignity and independence, a 
fine, free pride of carriage and of step. This fact 
alone differentiated them from our own negroes; 
but, further, their features were in general much 
finer, and their skins of a clear mahogony beautiful 
in its satiny texture. Most — and these were the 
blackest — wore long white robes and fine openwork 
skullcaps. They were the local race, the Swahili, 
had we but known, it; the original "Zanzibari" who 

$6 



MOMBASA 

furnished Livingstone, Stanley, Speke, and the other 
early explorers with their men. Others, however, 
were much less "civilized." We saw one "Cook's 
tour from the jungle" consisting of six savages, 
their hair twisted into innumerable points, their 
ear lobes stretched to hang fairly to their shoulders 
wearing only a rather neglectful blanket, adorned 
with polished wire, carrying war clubs and bright 
spears. They followed, with eyes and mouths 
open, a very sophisticated-looking city cousin in the 
usual white garments, swinging a jaunty, light 
bamboo cane. The cane seems to be a distinguish- 
ing mark of the leisure class. It not only means 
that you are not working; but also that you have no 
earthly desire to work. 

About this time one of the hotel boys brought the 
inevitable chota-hahzari — the tea and biscuits of 
early morning. For this once it was very welcome. 

Our hotel proved to be on the direct line of 
freighting. There are no horses or draught animals 
in Mombasa; the fly is too deadly. Therefore all 
hauling is done by hand. The tiny tracks of the 
unique street-car system run everywhere any one 
would wish to go; branching off even into private 
grounds and to the very front doors of bungalows 
situated far out of town. Each resident owns his 
own street car just as elsewhere a man has his 

67 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

own carnage. There are of course public cars also, 
each with its pair of boys to push it; and also a 
number of rather decrepit rickshaws. As a natural 
corollary to the passenger traffic, the freighting also 
is handled by the blacks on large flat trucks with 
short guiding poles. These men are quite naked 
save for a small loin cloth, are beautifully shaped, 
and glisten all over from the perspiration shining 
in the sun. So fine is the texture of their skins, the 
softness of their colour, so rippling the play of 
muscles, that this shining perspiration is like a beau- 
tiful polish. They push from behind slowly and 
steadily and patiently and unwaveringly the most 
tremendous loads of the heaviest stuffs. When the 
hill becomes too steep for them, they turn their 
backs against the truck; and by placing one foot 
behind the other, a few inches at a time, they edge 
their burden up the slope. 

The steering is done by one man at the pole or 
tongue in front. This individual also sets the key 
to the song by which in Africa all heavy labour is 
carried forward. He cries his wavering shrill-voiced 
chant; the toilers utter antiphony in low gruff tones. 
At a distance one hears only the wild high syncopated 
chanting; but as the affair draws slowly nearer, he 
catches the undertone of the responses. These 
latter are cast in the regular swing and rhythm of 

68 




Old Portuguese fort at Mombasa 




In the Arab quarter of Mombasa 




In the Swahili quarter of Mombasa 




The entire water supply of Mombasa is drawn from 
numberless picturesque wells 



MOMBASA 

effort; but the steersman throws in his bit at odd 
and irregular intervals. Thus: 

Headman (shrill): ''^Hay ah mon!^^ 

Pushers (gruff in rhythm) : Tunk! — tunki — 
tunkf — "or: 

Headman (shrill and wavering minor chant) : 
^^Ah — nah — nee — e-e-eT^ 

Pushers (undertone) : " Umhwa — jo-e! Umbwa — 
jo — er 

These wild and barbaric chantings — in the 
distance; near at hand, dying into distance again, 
slow, dogged, toilsome — came to be to us one of the 
typical features of the place. 

After breakfast we put on our sun helmets and 
went forth curiously to view the town. We found it 
roughly divided into four quarters — the old Portu- 
guese, the Arabic, the European, and the native. 
The Portuguese comprises the outer fringe next the 
waterfront of the inner bay. It is very narrow of 
street, with whitewashed walls, balconies, and 
wonderful carven and studded doors. The business 
of the town is done here. The Arabic quarter lies 
back of it — a maze of narrow alleys winding aim- 
lessly here and there between high white buildings, 
with occasionally the minarets and towers of a 
mosque. This district harbours beside the upper 
class Swahilis and Arabs a large number of East 

69 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

Indians. Still back of this are thousands of the 
low grass, or mud and wattle huts of the natives, 
their roofs thatched with straw or palm. These are 
apparently arranged on little system. The small 
European population lives atop the sea bluifs 
beyond the old fort in the most attractive bungalows. 
This, the most desirable location of all, has remained 
open to them because heretofore the fierce wars 
with which Mombasa, "the Island of Blood," has 
been swept have made the exposed seaward lands 
impossible. 

No idle occupation can be more fascinating than 
to wander about the mazes of this ancient town. 
The variety of race and occupation is something 
astounding. Probably the one human note that, 
everywhere persisting, draws the whole together is 
furnished by the water-carriers. Mombasa has no 
water system whatever. The entire supply is 
drawn from numberless picturesque wells scattered 
everywhere in the crowded centre; and distributed 
mainly in Standard Oil cans suspended at either 
end of a short pole. By dint of constant daily exer- 
cise, hauling water up from a depth and carrying it 
various distances, these men have developed the 
most beautifully powerful figures. They proceed 
at a half trot, the slender poles, with forty pounds 
at either end, seeming fairly to cut into their naked 

70 



MOMBASA 

shoulders, muttering a word of warning to the 
loiterers at every other breath — semeelay! semee- 
lay! No matter in what part of Mombasa you may 
happen to be, or at what hour of the day or night, 
you will meet these industrious little men trotting 
along under their burdens. 

Everywhere also are the women, carrying them- 
selves proudly erect, with a free swing of the hips. 
They wear invariably a single sheet of cotton cloth 
printed in blue or black with the most astonishing 
borders and spotty designs. This is drawn tight 
just above the breasts, leaving the shoulders and 
arms bare. Their hair is divided into perhaps a 
dozen parts running lengthwise of the head from the 
forehead to the nape of the neck, after the manner 
of the stripes on a watermelon. Each part then 
ends in a tiny twisted pigtail not over an inch long. 
The lobes of their ears have been stretched until 
they hold thick round disks about three inches in 
diameter, ornamented by concentric circles of 
different colours, with a red bull's eye for a centre. 
The outer edges of the ears are then further decorated 
with gold clasps set closely together. Many brace- 
lets, necklaces, and armlets complete the get-up. 
They are big women, with soft velvety skins, and a 
proud and haughty carriage; the counterparts of 
the men in the white robes and caps. 

71 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

By the way, it may be a good place here to remark 
that these garments, and the patterned squares of 
cloth worn by the women, are invariably most 
spotlessly clean. 

These, we learned, were the Swahilis, the ruling 
class, the descendents of the slave traders. Beside 
them are all sorts and conditions. Your true savage 
pleased his own fancy as to dress and personal 
adornment. The bushmen generally shaved the 
edges of their wool to leave a nice close-fitting 
natural skullcap, wore a single blanket draped from 
one shoulder, and carried a war club. The ear lobe 
seemed always to be stretched; sometimes sufficiently 
to have carried a pint bottle. Indeed, white marma- 
lade jars seemed to be very popular wear. One 
ingenious person had acquired a dozen of the sort 
of safety pins used to fasten curtains to their rings. 
These he had snapped into the lobes, six on a side. 

We explored for some time. One of the Swahilis 
attached himself to us so unobtrusively that before 
we knew it we had accepted him as guide. In that 
capacity he realized an ideal, for he never addressed 
a word to us, nor did he even stay in sight. We wan- 
dered along at our sweet will, dawdling as slowly as 
we pleased. The guide had apparently quite 
disappeared. Look where we would we could in 
no manner discover him. At the next corner we 

72 



MOMBASA 

would pause, undecided as to what to do; there in 
the middle distance would stand our friend, smiling. 
When he was sure we had seen him and were about 
to take the turn properly, he would disappear again. 
Convoyed in this pleasant fashion we wound and 
twisted up and down and round and about through 
the most appalling maze. We saw the native mar- 
kets with their vociferating sellers seated cross-legged 
on tables behind piles of fruit or vegetables, while 
an equally vociferating crowd surged up and down 
the aisles. Gray parrots and little monkeys perched 
everywhere about. Billy gave one of the monkeys 
a banana. He peeled it exactly as a man would 
have'done, smelled of it critically, and threw it back 
at her in the most insulting fashion. We saw also 
the rows of Hindu shops open to the street with their 
gaudily dressed children of blackened eyelids, their 
stolid dirty proprietors, and their women marvellous 
in bright silks and massive bangles. In the thatched 
native quarter were more of the fine Swahili women 
sitting cross-legged on the earth under low verandas, 
engaged in different handicrafts; and chickens; and 
many amusing naked children. We made friends 
with many of them, communicating by laughter and 
by signs, while our guide stood unobtrusively in the 
middle distance waiting for us to come on. 

Just at sunset he led us out to a great open space, 

73 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

with a tall palm in the centre of it and the gathering 
of a multitude of people. A muzzein was clambering 
into a high scaffold built of poles, whence shortly he 
began to intone a long-drawn-out ^' Allah! Allah! il 
Allah! ^^ The coconut palms cut the sunset, and 
the boabab trees — the fat, lazy boababs — looked 
more monstrous than ever. We called our guide 
and conferred on him the munificient sum of sixteen 
and a half cents; with which, apparently much 
pleased, he departed. Then slowly we wandered 
back to the hotel. 



74 



PART II 
THE SHIMBA HILLS 




O 

pq 

S3 




In the native quarter of Mombasa 



IX 

A TROPICAL JUNGLE 

MANY months later, and after adventures else- 
where described,* besides others not relevant 
for the moment, F., an Englishman, and I returned 
to Mombasa. We came from some hundred odd 
miles in the interior where we had been exploring 
for the sources and the course of the Tsavo River. 
Now our purpose was to penetrate into the low, hot 
wooded country along the coast known as the Shimba 
Hills in quest of a rare beast called the sable antelope. 
These hills could be approached in one of two 
ways — by crossing the harbour, and then marching 
two days afoot; or by voyaging up to the very end 
of one of the long arms of the sea that extend many 
miles inland. The latter involved dhows; depen- 
dence on uncertain winds; favourable tides and a 
heap of good luck. It was less laborious but most 
uncertain. At this stage of the plan the hotel 
manager came forward with the offer of a gasoline 
launch, which we gladly accepted. 

* "Land of Footprints" 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

We embarked about noon, storing our native 
carriers and effects aboard a dhow hired for the 
occasion. This we purposed towing. A very neatly 
uniformed Swahili bearing on his stomach a highly 
polished brass label as big as a door plate — "Harbour 
Police" — threw duck fits over what he called 
overloading the boat. He knew very little about 
boats, but threw very competent duck fits. As we 
did know something about boats we braved unknown 
consequences by disregarding him utterly. No 
consequences ensued; unless perhaps to his own 
health. When everything was aboard, that dhow 
was pretty well down, but still well afloat. Then we 
white men took our places in the launch. 

This was a long narrow affair with a four-cylinder 
thirty-horsepower engine. As she possessed no 
speed gears, she had either plunge ahead full speed 
or come to a stop; there were no compromises. Her 
steering was managed by a tiller instead of a wheel; 
so that a mere touch sufficed to swerve her ten feet 
from her course. As the dhow was in no respect 
built on such nervous lines, she did occasionally 
some fancy and splashing curves. 

The pilot of the launch turned out to be a sandy- 
haired Yankee who had been catching wild animals 
for Barnum & Bailey's Circus. While waiting for 
his ship, he, being a proverbial handy Yankee, had 

78 



A TROPICAL JUNGLE 

taken on this job. He became quite interested in 
telling us this, and at times forgot his duties at the 
tiller. Then that racing-launch would take a wild 
swoop; the clumsy old dhow astern would try vainly, 
with much spray and dangerous careening, to follow; 
the compromise course would all but upset her; the 
spray would fly; the safari boys would take their 
ducking; the boat boys would yell and dance and 
lean frantically against the two long sweeps with 
which they tried to steer. In this wild and untram- 
melled fashion we careered up the bay, too interested 
in our own performances to pay much attention to 
the scenery. The low shores, with their coconut 
groves gracefully rising above the mangrove tangle, 
slipped by; and the distant, blue Shimba Hills came 
nearer. 

After a while we turned into a narrower channel 
with a good many curves, and a quite unknown 
depth of water. Down this we whooped at the full 
speed of our thirty-horsepower engine. Occasional 
natives, waist deep and fishing, stared after us 
bung-eyed. The Yankee ventured a guess as to 
how hard she would hit on a mudbank. She 
promptly proved his guess a rank underestimate 
by doing so. We fell in a heap on the bottom. 
The dhow bore down on us with majestic momentum. 
The boat boys leaned frantically on their sweeps and 

79 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

managed just to avoid us. The dhow also rammed 
the mudbank. 

A dozen reluctant boys hopped overboard and 
pushed us off again. We pursued our merry way 
again. On either hand now appeared fish weirs of 
plaited coco fibre; which, being planted in the shal- 
lows, helped us materially to guess at the channel. 
Naked men, up to their shoulders in the water, 
attended to some mysterious need of the nets, or 
emerged dripping and sparkling with baskets of 
fish atop their heads. The channel grew even 
narrower, and the mudbanks more frequent. We 
dodged a dozen in our headlong course. Our 
local guide, a Swahili in tarboosh and a beautiful 
saffron robe, showed signs of strong excitement. 
We were to stop, he said, around the next bend; 
and at this rate we never could stop. The 
Yankee remarked, superfluously, that it would be 
handy if this dod-blistered engine had a clutch; 
adding as an afterthought, that no matter how long 
he stayed in the tropics his nose peeled. We asked 
what we should do if we over-carried our prospective 
landing place. He replied that the dod-blistered 
thing did have a reverse. While thus conversing 
we shot around a corner into a complete cul-de-sac! 
Everything was shut off hastily, and an instant later 
we and the dhow smashed up high and dry on a cozy 

80 



A TROPICAL JUNGLE 

mud beach! We drew a deep breath and looked 
around us. 

Mangrove thicket to the edge of the slimy ooze; 
trees behind — that was all we could see. We gave 
our attention to the business of getting our men, our 
effects, and ourselves ashore. The ooze proved to be 
just above knee deep. The porters had a fearful 
and floundering time, and received much obvious 
comment from us perched in the bow of the launch. 
Finally everything was debarked. F. and I took off 
our boots; but our gunbearers expressed such horror 
at the mere thought of our plunging into the mud, 
that we dutifully climbed them pick-a-back and were 
carried. The hard shell beach was a hundred feet 
away, occupying a little recess where the persistent 
tough mangroves drew back. From it led a narrow 
path through the thicket. We waved and shouted 
a farewell to the crews of the launch and the dhow. 

The path for a hundred feet was walled in by the 
mangroves through which scuttled and rattled the 
big land crabs. Then suddenly we found ourselves 
in a story-book, tropical, paradise. The tall coco 
palms rose tufted above everything; the fans of the 
younger palms waved below; bananas thrust the 
banners of their broad leaves wherever they could 
find space; creepers and vines flung the lush luxuri- 
ance of their greenery over all the earth and into 

8i 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

the depths of all the half-guessed shadows. In no 
direction could one see unobstructed farther than 
twenty feet, except straight up; and there one could 
see just as far as the tops of the palms. It was 
like being in a room; a green, hot, steamy, lovely 
room. Very bright-coloured birds that ought really 
to have been at home in their cages fluttered about. 

We had much vigorous clearing to do to make 
room for our tents. By the time the job was 
finished we were all pretty hot. Several of the boys 
made vain attempts to climb for nuts; but without 
success. We had brought them with us from the 
interior where coconuts do not grow; and they did 
not understand the method. They could swarm 
up the tall slim stems all right; but could not manage 
to get through the downward-pointing spikes of the 
dead leaves. F. tried and failed, to the great. amuse- 
ment of the men; but to the greater amusement of 
myself. I was a wise person, and lay on my back 
on a canvas cot, so it was not much bother to look 
up, and enjoyed life. Not to earn absolutely the 
stigma of laziness, I tried to shoot some nuts down. 
This did not work either, for the soft, spongy stems 
closed around the bullet holes. Then a little 
wizened monkey of a Swahili porter, having watched 
our futile performances with interest, nonchalantly 
swarmed up; in some mysterious manner wriggled 

82 



A TROPICAL JUNGLE 

through the defences; and perched in the top whence 
he dropped to us a dozen big green nuts. Our men 
may not have been much of a success at climbing 
for nuts; but they were passed masters at the art of 
opening them. Three or four clips from their 
awkward swordlike pangas, and we were each pre- 
sented with a clean, beautiful, natural goblet brim- 
ming full of a refreshing drink. 

About this time a fine figure of a man drifted into 
camp. He was very smooth-skinned, very dignified, 
very venerable. He was pure Swahili, though of 
the savage branch of that race, and had none of the 
negro type of countenance. In fact so like was he 
in face, hair, short square beard and genial dignity 
to a certain great-uncle of mine that it was very hard 
to remember that he had on only a small strip of 
cloth, that he was cherishing as a great treasure 
a piece of soap box he had salvaged from the shore, 
and that his skin was red chocolate. I felt inclined 
to talk to him as to an intellectual equal, especially 
as he had a fine resonant bass voice that in itself 
lent his remarks some importance. However, I gave 
him two ordinary wood screws, showed him how they 
screwed in and out, and left him happy. 

After supper the moon rose, casting shadows of 
new and unknown shapes through this strangely new 
and unknown forest. A thin white mist ascending 

83 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

everywhere from the soil tempered but could not 
obscure the white brilliance. The thermometer 
stood now only 82; but the dripping tropical sweat- 
bath in which our camp was pitched considerably 
raised the sensible heat. A bird with a most 
diabolical shrieking note cursed in the shadows. 
Another, a pigeonlike creature, began softly, and 
continued to repeat in diminishing energy until it 
seemed to have run down, like a piece of clockwork. 

Our way next morning led for some time through 
this lovely but damp jungle. Then we angled up 
the side of a hill to emerge into the comparatively 
open country atop what we Westerners would call 
a "hog's back" — a long, narrow spurlike ridge 
mounting slowly to the general elevation of the 
main hills. Here were high green bushes, with little 
free open passages between them; and occasionally 
meadowlike openings running down the slopes on 
one side or the other. Before us, some miles distant, 
were the rounded blue hills. 

We climbed steadily. It was still very early 
morning; but already the day was hot. Pretty soon 
we saw over the jungle to the gleaming waters of 
the inlet; and then to the sea. Our "hog's back" 
led us past a ridge of the hills, and before we knew it 
we had been deposited in a shallow valley three or 
four miles between parallel ridges; the said valley 

84 



A TROPICAL JUNGLE 

being at a considerable elevation, and itself diversi- 
fied with rolling hills, ravines, meadow land, and 
wide flats. On many of the ridges were scattered 
coco palms; and occasional mango groves; while 
many smokes attested the presence of natives. 

These we found in shambas or groups of little 
farms, huddled all together, with wilderness and 
brush and trees or the wide-open green grass lawn 
between. The houses were very large and neat 
looking. They were constructed quite ingeniously 
from coco branches. Each branch made one mat. 
The leaves were all brought over to the same side of 
the stem, and then plaited. The resulting mat was 
then six or seven feet long by twelve to sixteen inches 
broad, and could be used for a variety of purposes. 
Indeed we found Melville's chapter in "Typhee'* 
as to the various uses of the coconut palm by no 
means exaggerated. The nuts, leaves, and fibre 
supplied every conceivable human want. 

The natives were a pleasant, friendly, good-looking 
lot. In fact so like was their cast of countenance 
to that of the white-skinned people we were accus- 
tomed to seeing that we had great difhculty in 
realizing that they were mere savages, costume — 
or lack of It — to the contrary notwithstanding. 
Under a huge mango tree two were engaged in 
dividing a sheep. Sixty or seventy others stood 

85 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

solemnly around watching. It may have been a 
religious ceremony, for all I know; but the affair 
looked to be about two parts business to sixty of 
idle and cheerful curiosity. We stopped and talked 
to them a little, chaffed the pretty girls — they were 
really pretty — and marched on. 

About noon our elegant guide stopped, struck an 
attitude, and pointed with his silver-headed rattan 
cane. 

"This," said he, ''is where we must camp." 

We marched through a little village. A family 
party sat beneath the veranda of a fine building; 
a very old wrinkled couple; two stalwart beautiful 
youths; a young mother suckling her baby; two 
young girls; and eight or ten miscellaneous and 
naked youngsters. As the rest of the village ap- 
peared to be empty, I imagined this to be the 
caretaker's family, and the youngsters to belong to 
others. We stopped and spoke, were answered 
cheerfully, suggested that we might like to buy 
chickens, and offered a price. Instantly with 
a whoop of joy the lot of them were afoot. The fowl 
waited for no further intimations of troublous times, 
but fled squawking. They had been there before. 
So had our hosts; for inside a minute they had 
returned, each with a chicken — and a broad grin. 

After due payment we proceeded on a few hundred 

86 





-::!" 



Swahili women at Mombasa 




The slope fell gently away through a coconut grove 




The camp beneath the mangoes 



A TROPICAL JUNGLE 

yards and pitched camp beneath two huge mango 
trees. 

Besides furnishing one of the most delicious of 
the tropical fruits, the mango is also one of the most 
beautiful of trees. It is tall, spreads very wide, and 
its branches sweep to within ten feet of the ground. 
Its perfect symmetry combined with the size and 
deep green of its leaves causes it to resemble, from 
a short distance, a beautiful green hill. Beneath its 
umbrella one finds dense shade, unmottled by a 
single ray of sunlight, so that one can lie beneath it 
in full confidence. For, parenthetically, even a 
single ray of this tropical sunlight is to the unpro- 
tected a very dangerous thing. But the leaves of 
the mango have this peculiarity, which distin- 
guishes it from all other trees — namely that they 
grow only at the very ends of the small twigs and 
branches. As these, of course, grow only at the 
ends of the big limbs, it follows that from beneath 
the mango looks like a lofty green dome, a veritable 
pantheon of the forest. 

We made our camp under one of these trees; gave 
ourselves all the space we could use; and had plenty 
left over — five tents and a cook camp, with no 
crowding. It was one of the pleasantest camps 
I ever saw. Our green dome overhead protected 
us absolutely from the sun; high sweet grass grew all 

87 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

about us; the breeze wandered lazily up from the 
distant Indian Ocean. Directly before our tent 
door the slope fell gently away through a sparse 
coconut grove whose straight stems panelled our 
view, then rose again to the clear-cut outline of a 
straight ridge opposite. The crest of this was sen- 
tinelled by tall scattered coconut trees, the "burst- 
ing star" pyrotechnic effect of their tops particularly 
fine against the sky. 

After a five hours' tropical march uphill we were 
glad to sit under our green dome, to look at our 
view, to enjoy the little breeze, and to drink some of 
the coconuts our friends the villagers brought in. 



SS 



THE SABLE 

A BOUT three o'clock I began to feel rested and 
Ijl ambitious. Therefore I called up our elegant 
guide and Memba Sasa, and set out on my first hunt 
for sable. F. was rather more done up by the hard 
morning, and so did not go along. The guide wore 
still his red tarboosh, his dark short jacket, his saffron 
yellow nether garment — it was not exactly a skirt — 
and his silver-headed rattan cane. The only change 
he made was to tuck up the skirt, leaving his long 
legs bare. It hardly seemed altogether a suitable 
costume for hunting; but he seemed to know what 
he was about. 

We snooped along ridges, and down into ravines, 
and across gulleys choked with brush. Horrible 
thickets alternated and occasionally surrounded 
open green meadows hanging against the sidehills. 
As we proceeded the country became rougher, the 
ravines more precipitous. We struggled up steep 
hills, fairly bucking our way through low growth 
that proved all but impenetrable. The idea was to 

89 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

find a sable feeding in one of the little open glades; 
but whenever I allowed myself to think of the many 
adverse elements of the game, the chances seemed 
very slim. It took a half hour to get from one 
glade to the next; there were thousands of glades; 
the sable is a rare shy animal that likes dense cover 
fully as well if not better than the open. Sheer rank 
bull luck alone seemed the only hope. And as I felt 
my strength going in that cruel struggle against 
heavy brush and steep hills, I began to have very 
strong doubts indeed as to that sable. 

For it was cruel, hard work. In this climate one 
hailed a car or a rickshaw to do an errand two blocks 
away, and considered himself quite a hero if he took 
a leisurely two-mile stroll along the cliif heads at 
sunset. Here I was, after a five-hour uphill march, 
bucking into brush and through country that would 
be considered difficult going even in Canada. At 
the end of twenty minutes m)^ every garment was 
not wringing, but dripping, wet so that when I 
carried my rifle over my arm, water ran down the 
barrel and off" the muzzle in a steady stream. After 
a bit of this my knees began to weaken; and it 
became a question of saving energy, of getting along 
somehow, and of leaving the actual hunting to 
Memba Sasa and the guide. If they had shown me 
a sable, I very much doubt if I could have hit it. 

90 




The Sable 



A'. .■ 




"From it led a narrow path through the thicket' 



THE SABLE 

However, we did not see one; and I staggered into 
camp at dusk pretty well exhausted. From the 
most grateful hot bath and dean clothes I derived 
much refreshment. Shortly I was sitting in my 
canvas chair, sipping a coconut, and describing 
the condition of affairs to P., who was naturally very 
curious as to how the trick was done. 

"Now," I concluded, "I know just about what 
I can and what I cannot do. Three days more of 
this sort of work will feed me up plenty. If we do 
not run across a sable in that time, I'm afraid we 
don't get any." 

"Two days will do for me," said he. 

We called up the guide and questioned him closely. 
He seemed quite confident; and asserted that in 
this country sable were found — when they were 
found at all, which was not often. They must be 
discovered in the small grassy openings. We began 
to understand why so very few people get sable. 

We dismissed the guide, and sat quietly smoking 
in the warm soft evening. The air was absolutely 
still save for various night insects and birds, and 
the weird calling of natives across the valleys. 
Far out toward the sea a thunderstorm flashed; and 
after a long interval the rumblings came to us. So 
very distant was it that we paid it little attention, 
save as an interesting background to our own still 

91 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

evening. Fairly between sentences of our slow 
conversation, however, it rushed up to the zenith, 
blotting out the stars. The tall palms began to 
sway and rustle in the forerunning breeze. Then 
with a swoop it was upon us, a tempest of fury. 
We turned in; and all night long the heavy deluges 
of rain fell, roaring like surf on an unfriendly coast. 

By morning this had fallen to a light steady drizzle 
in which we started off quite happily. In this 
climate one likes to get wet. The ground was 
sodden and deep with muck. Within a mile of camp 
we saw many fresh buffalo tracks. 

This time we went downhill, and still downhill 
through openings among patches of great forest 
trees. The new leaves were just coming out in 
pinks and russets, so that the effect at a little dis- 
tance was almost precisely that of our autumn 
foliage in the duller phases. So familiar thus were 
made some of the low rounded knolls that for an 
instant we were respectively back in the hills of 
Surrey or Michigan — and told each other so. 

Thus we moved slowly out from the dense cover 
to the grass openings. Far over on another ridge 
F. called my attention to something jet-black and 
indeterminate. In another country I should have 
named it as a charred log on an old pine burning; 
for that was precisely what it looked like. We 

92 



THE SABLE 

glanced at it casually through our glasses. It was a 
sable buck lying down right out in the open. He 
was black and sleek, and we could make out his 
sweeping scimitar horns. 

Memba Sasa and the Swahili dropped flat on their 
faces while F. and I crawled slowly and cautiously 
through the mud until we had gained the cover of 
a shallow ravine that ran in the beast's general 
direction. Noting carefully a certain small thicket 
as landmark, we stooped and moved as fast as we 
could down to that point of vantage. There we 
cautiously parted the grasses and looked. The sable 
had disappeared. The place where he had been 
lying was plainly to be identified; and there was no 
cover save a tiny bush between two and three feet 
high. We were quite certain he had neither seen nor 
winded us. Either he had risen and gone forward 
into the ravine up which we had made our stalk, 
or else he had entered the small thicket. F. agreed 
to stay on watch where he was while I slipped back 
and examined the earth to leeward of the thicket. 

I had hardly crawled ten yards, however, before 
the gentle snapping of F.'s fingers recalled me to 
his side. 
^ " He's behind that bush," he whispered in my ear. 

I looked. The bush was hardly big enough to 
conceal a setter dog; and the sable is somewhat 

93 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

larger than our elk. Nevertheless F. insisted that 
the animal was standing behind it, and that he had 
caught the toss of its head. We lay still for some 
time, while the soft, warm rain drizzled down on us, 
our eyes riveted on the bush. And then — we 
caught the momentary flash of curved horns as the 
sable tossed his head. It seemed incredible even 
then that the tiny bush should conceal so large a 
beast. As a matter of fact we later found that the 
bush grew on a slight elevation behind which was 
a depression. In this the sable stood, patiently 
enduring the drizzle. 

We waited some time in hopes he would move 
forward a foot or so; but apparently he had selected 
his loafing place with care, and liked it. The danger 
of a shift of wind was always present. Finally 
I slipped back over the brink of the ravine, moved 
three yards to the left, and crawled up through the 
tall dripping grass to a new position behind a little 
bush. Cautiously raising my head I found I could 
see plainly the sable's head and part of his shoulders. 
My position was cramped and out of balance for 
offhand shooting; but I did my best, and heard 
the loud plunk of the hit. The sable made off at a 
fast though rather awkward gallop, wheeled for an 
instant a hundred yards farther on, received another 
bullet in the shoulder, and disappeared over the 

94 



THE SABLE 

brow of the hill. We raced over the top to get in 
another shot, and found him stone dead. 

He was a fine beast, jet-black in coat with white 
markings on the face, red-brown ears, and horns 
sweeping up and back scimitar fashion. He stood 
four feet and six inches at the shoulder, and his horns 
were second best ever shot in British East Africa. 
This beast has been described by Heller as a new 
subspecies, and named Rooseveltii. His determina- 
tion was based upon an immature buck and a doe 
shot by Kermit Roosevelt. The determination of 
subspecies on so slight evidence seems to me un- 
scientific in the extreme. While the immature 
males do exhibit the general brown tone mainly 
relied on by Mr. Heller, the mature buck diifers 
in no essential from the type sable. I find the 
alleged subspecies is not accepted by European 
scientists. 



95 



XI 

A MARCH ALONG THE COAST 

I HAD now a most comfortable feeling that my 
task was done, that suddenly the threatening 
clouds of killing work had been cleared up, and that 
now I was privileged to loaf and invite my soul on 
this tropical green hilltop while poor F. put in the 
days trying to find another sable. Every morning 
he started out before daylight. I could see the light 
of his lantern outside the tent; and I stretched my- 
self in the luxurious consciousness that I should 
hear no deprecating but insistent "/lo^zV" from my 
boy until I pleased to invite it. In the afternoon or 
evening F. would return, quite exhausted and drip- 
ping, with only the report of new country traversed. 
No sable; no tracks of sable; no old signs, even, of 
sable. Gradually it was borne in on me how lucky 
I was to have come upon my magnificent specimen 
so promptly and in such favourable circumstances. 

A leisurely breakfast alone, with the sun climbing; 
then the writing of notes, a little reading, and 
perhaps a stroll to the village or along the top of the 

96 



A MARCH ALONG THE COAST 

ridge. At the heat of noon a siesta, with a cool 
coconut at my elbow. The view was beautiful 
on all sides; our great tree full of birds; the rising and 
dying winds in the palms like the gathering oncoming 
rush of the rains. From mountain to mountain 
sounded the wild, far-carrying ululations of the 
natives, conveying news or messages across the wide 
jungle. Toward sunset I wandered out in the 
groves, enjoying the many bright flowers, the tall, 
sweet grasses, and the coco palms against the sky. 
Piles of coconuts lay on the ground, covered each 
with a leaf plaited in a peculiarly individual manner 
to indicate ownership. Small boys, like little black 
imps, clung naked halfway up the slim trunks of 
the palms, watching me bright-eyed above the 
undergrowth. In all directions, crossing and re- 
crossing, ran a maze of beaten paths. Each led 
somewhere, but it would require the memory of — 
well, of a native, to keep all their destinations in 
mind. 

I used to follow some of them to their ending in 
little coco-leaf houses on the tops of knolls or beneath 
mangoes; and would talk with the people. They 
were very grave and very polite; and seemed to be 
living out their lives quite correctly according to 
their conceptions. Again, it was borne in on me 
that these people are not stumbling along the course 

97 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

of evolution in our footsteps, but have gone as far 
in their path as we have in ours; that they have 
reached at least as complete a correspondence with 
their environment as we with our own.* 

If F. had not returned by the time I reached camp, 
I would seat myself in my canvas chair, and thence 
dispense justice, advice, or medical treatment. 
If none of these things seemed demanded, I smoked 
my pipe. To me one afternoon came a big-framed, 
old, dignified man, with the heavy beard, the really 
noble features, the high forehead and the blank 
statue eyes of the blind Homer. He was led by a 
very small, very bright-eyed naked boy. At some 
twenty feet distance he squatted down cross-legged 
before me. For quite five minutes he sat there 
silent, while I held down my camp chair, smoked 
and waited. At last he spoke in a rolling deep bass 
voice rich and vibrating — a delight to hear. 

''' Jamho (greeting)!" said he. 

'' Jambo!^^ I replied mildly. 

Again a five-minute silence. I had begun reading, 
and had all but forgotten his presence. 

'' Jambo hwana (greeting, master)!" he rolled out. 

'^ JamhoV* I repeated. 

The same dignified, unhasting pause. 

'^ Jambo hwana m^kubzva (greeting great master) !" 

*For a fuller discussion see "The Land of Footprints." 

98 



A MARCH ALONG THE COAST 

'^Jambo!''^ quoth I, and went on reading. The 
sun was dropping, but the old man seemed in no 
hurry. 

^^Jamho hwana ni'kuhzua sana (greeting most 
mighty master) I" he boomed at last. 

'V^mWsaidl. 

This would seem to strike the superlative, and 
I expected now that he would state his business, 
but the old man had one more shot in his locker. 

^' Jamho hwana m^kuhwa kaheesa sana (greeting 
mightiest possible master) !" it came. 

Then in due course he delicately hinted that a gift 
of tobacco would not come amiss. 

F. returned a trifle earlier than usual to admit 
that his quest was hopeless, that his physical forces 
were, for the time being, at an end, and that he was 
willing to go out. 

Accordingly very early next morning we set out 
by the glimmer of a lantern, hoping to get a good 
start on our journey before the heat of the day 
became too severe. We did gain something, but 
performed several unnecessary loops and semicircles 
in the maze of beaten paths before we finally struck 
into one that led down the slope toward the sea. 
Shortly after the dawn came up "like thunder" in 
its swiftness, followed almost immediately by the 
sun. 

99 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

Our way now led along the wide flat between the 
seashore and the Shimba Hills in which we had been 
hunting. A road ten feet wide and innocent of 
wheels ran with obstinate directness up and down 
the slight contours and through the bushes and 
coconut groves that lay in its path. So mathe- 
matically straight was it that only when perspective 
closed it in, or when it dropped over the summit of 
a little rise, did the eye lose the effect of its inter- 
minability. The country through which this road 
led was various — open bushy veldt with sparse 
trees, dense jungle, coconut groves, tall and cool. 
In the shadows of the latter were the thatched native 
villages. To the left always ran the blue Shimba 
Hills ; and far away to the right somewhere we heard 
the grumbling of the sea. 

Every hundred yards or so we met somebody. 
Even this early the road was thronged. By far the 
majority were the almost naked natives of the 
district, pleasant, brown-skinned people with good 
features. They carried things. These things varied 
from great loads balanced atop to dainty impromptu 
baskets woven of coco-leaves and containing each a 
single coconut. They smiled on us, returned our 
greeting, and stood completely aside to let us pass. 
Other wayfarers were of more importance. Small 
groups of bearded dignitaries, either upper-class 

100 



A MARCH ALONG THE COAST 

Swahili or pure Arabs, strolled slowly along, appar- 
ently with limitless leisure, but evidently bound 
somewhere, nevertheless. They replied to our 
greetings with great dignity. Once, also, we over- 
took a small detachment of Soudanese troops moving. 
They were scattered over several miles of road. 
A soldier, most impressive and neat in khaki and 
red tarboosh and sash; then two or three of his 
laughing, sleek women, clad in the thin, patterned 
" 'Mericani, " glittering with gold ornaments; then 
a half dozen ragged porters carrying oiEcial but 
battered, painted wooden kit boxes, or bags, or 
miscellaneous curious plunder; then more troopers; 
and so on for miles. They all drew aside for us most 
respectfully; and the soldiers saluted, very smart 
and military. 

Under the broad-spreading mangoes near the 
villages we came upon many open markets in full 
swing. Each vendor squatted on his heels behind 
his wares, while the purchasers or traders wandered 
here and there making offers. The actual commerce 
compared with the amount of laughing, joking, 
shrieking joy of the occasion as one to a thousand. 

Generally three or four degenerate looking dirty 
East Indians slunk about, very crafty, very insinuat- 
ing, very ready and skillful to take what advantages 
they could. I felt a strong desire to kick every one 

lOI 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

of them out from these joyful concourses of happy 
people. Generally we sat down for a while in these 
markets, and talked to the people a little, and 
perhaps purchased some of the delicious fruit. 
They had a small delicate variety of banana, most 
wonderful, the like of which I have seen nowhere 
else. We bought forty of these for a coin worth 
about eight cents. Besides fruit, they offered coco- 
nuts in all forms, grain, woven baskets, small articles 
of handicraft — and fish. The latter were farther 
from the sea than they should have been! These 
occasional halts greatly refreshed us for more of that 
endless road. 

For all this time we were very hot. As the sun 
mounted, the country fairly steamed. From the 
end of my rifle barrel, which I carried across my fore- 
arm, a steady trickle of water dripped into the road. 
We neither of us had a dry stitch on us; and our 
light garments clung to us thoroughly wet through. 
At first we tried the military method, and marched 
fifty minutes to rest ten; but soon discovered that 
twenty-five minutes' work to five minutes off was 
more practical. The sheer weight of the sun was 
terrific; after we had been exposed to it for any 
great length of time — as across several wide open 
spaces — we entered the steaming shade of the 
jungle with gratitude. At the end of seven hours, 

102 



A MARCH ALONG THE COAST 

however, we most unexpectedly came through a 
dense coconut grove plump on the banks of the 
harbour at Kilindini. 

Here, after making arrangements for the transport 
of our safari, when it should arrive, we entrusted 
ourselves to a small boy and a cranky boat. An 
hour later, clad in tropical white, with cool drinks 
at our elbows, we sat in easy chairs on the veranda 
of the Mombasa Club. 

The clubhouse is built on a low cliflF at the water's 
edge. It looks across the blue waters of the bay to a 
headland crowned with coco palms; and beyond 
the headland to the Indian Ocean. The cool trades 
sweep across that veranda. We idly watched a lone 
white oarsman pulling strongly against the wind 
through the tide rips, evidently bent on exercise. 
We speculated on the incredible folly of wanting 
exercise; and forgot him. An hour later a huge 
saffron yellow squall rose from China 'cross the way, 
filled the world with an unholy light, lashed the 
reluctant sea to whitecaps, and swooped screaming 
on the coco palms. Police boats to rescue the idiot 
oarsman! Much minor excitement! Great rushing 
to and fro! We continued to sit in our lounging 
chairs, one hand on our cool long drinks. 



io;j 



XII 

THE FIRE 

WE WERE very tired, so we turned in early. 
Unfortunately our rooms were immediately 
over the billiard room where a bibulous and cosmo- 
politan lot were earnestly endeavouring to bolster 
up by further proof the fiction that a white man 
cannot retain his health in the tropics. The process 
was pretty rackety, and while it could not keep us 
awake, it prevented us from falling thoroughly 
asleep. At length, and suddenly, the props of noise 
fell away from me, and I sank into a grateful, pro- 
found abyss. 

Almost at once, however, I was dragged back to 
consciousness. Mohamet stood at my bedside. 

"Bwana," he proifered to my rather angry in- 
quiry, "all the people have gone to the fire. It is a 
very large fire. I thought you would like to see it." 

I glanced out of the window at the reddening sky, 
thrust my feet into a pair of slippers and went forth 
in my pajamas to see what I could see. 

We threaded our way through many narrow dark 

S04 



THE FIRE 

and deserted streets, beneath balconies that over- 
hung, past walls over which nodded tufted palms, 
until a loud and increasing murmuring told us we 
were nearing the centre of disturbance. Shortly we 
came to the outskirts of the excited crowd, and 
beyond them saw the red furnace glow. 

^^Semeelay! Semeelay!^^ warned Mohamet authori- 
tatively; and the bystanders, seeing a white face, 
gave me passage. 

All of picturesque Mombasa was afoot — Arabs, 
Swahilis, Somalis, savages, Indians — the whole lot. 
They moved restlessly in the narrow streets; they 
hung over the edges of balconies; they peered from 
barred windows; interested dark faces turned up 
everywhere in the flickering light. One woman, 
a fine, erect biblical figure, stood silhouetted on a 
flat housetop and screamed steadily. I thought 
she must have at least one baby in the fire, but it 
seems she was only excited. 

The fire was at present confined to two buildings, 
in which it was raging fiercely. Its spread, however, 
seemed certain; and, as it was surrounded by ware- 
houses of valuable goods, moving was in full swing. 
A frantic white man stood at the low doorway of one 
of these dungeonlike stores hastening the movements 
of an unending string of porters. As each emerged 
bearing a case on his shoulder, the white man urged 

105 



d 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

him to a trot. I followed up the street to see where 
these valuables were being taken, and what were the 
precautions against theft. Around the next corner, 
it seemed. As each excited perspiring porter trotted 
up, he heaved his burden from his head or his 
shoulders, and promptly scampered back for another 
load. They were loyal and zealous men; but their 
headpieces were deficient inside. For the burdens 
that they saved from the fire happened to be cases 
of gin in bottles. At least, it was in bottles until 
the process of saving had been completed. Then it 
trickled merrily down the gutter. I went back and 
told the frantic white man about it. He threw up 
both hands to heaven and departed. 

By dodging from street to street Mohamet and 
I succeeded in circling the whole disturbance, and so 
came at length to a public square. Here was a vast 
throng, and a very good place, so I climbed atop a 
rescued bale of cotton the better to see. 

Mombasa has no water system, but a wonderful 
corps of water-carriers. These were in requisition 
to a man. They disappeared down through the 
wide gates of the customs enclosure, their naked, 
muscular, light-brown bodies gleaming with sweat, 
their Standard Oil cans dangling merrily at the ends 
of slender poles. A moment later they emerged, the 
cans full of salt water from the bay, the poles seeming 

1 06 



THE FIRE 

fairly to bite Into their bare shoulders as they teetered 
along at their rapid, swaying, burdened gait. 

The moment they entered the square they were 
seized upon from a dozen different sides. There was 
no system at all. Every owner of property was out 
for himself, and intended to get as much of the 
precious water as he could. The poor carriers were 
pulled about, jerked violently here and there, 
besought, commanded to bring their loads to one 
or the other of the threatened premises. Vocifera- 
tions, accusations, commands arose to screams. 
One old graybeard occupied himself by standing 
on tiptoe and screeching, '^Maji! maji! maji!^^ at 
the top of his voice, as though that added anything 
to the visible supply. The water-carrier of the 
moment disappeared in a swirl of excited contestants. 
He was attending strictly to business, looking 
neither to right nor to left, pushing forward as 
steadily as he could, gasping mechanically his cus- 
tomary warning: "Semeelay! SemeelayT^ Some- 
how, eventually, he and his comrades must have got 
somewhere; for after an interval he returned with 
empty buckets. Then every blessed fool of a 
property owner took a whack at his bare shoulders 
as he passed, shrieking hysterically, ''Hay a! hay a! 
pesil pesi/^' and the like to men already doing their 
best. It was a grand sight! 

107 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

In the meantime the fire itself was roaring away. 
The old graybeard suddenly ceased crying maji, 
and darted forward to where I stood on the bale of 
cotton. With great but somewhat flurried respect 
he begged me to descend. I did so, somewhat 
curious as to what he might be up to, for the cotton 
was at least two hundred feet from the fire. Im- 
mediately he began to tug and heave; the bale was 
almost beyond his strength; but after incredible 
exertions he lifted one side of it, poised it for a 
moment, got his shoulder under it, and rolled it 
over once. Then he darted away and resumed his 
raucous crying for water. I climbed back again. 
Thrice more, at intervals, he repeated this per- 
formance. The only result was to daub with mud 
every possible side of that bale. I hope it was his 
property. 

You must remember that I was observing the 
heavy artillery of the attack on the conflagration. 
Individual campaigns were everywhere in progress. 
I saw one man standing on the roof of a threatened 
building. He lowered slowly, hand over hand, a 
small tea kettle at the end of a string. This was 
filled by a friend in the street, whereupon the man 
hauled it up again, slowly, hand over hand, and 
solemnly dashed its contents into the mouth of the 
furnace. Thousands of other men on roofs, in 

io8 



THE FIRE 

balconies, on the street, were doing the same thing. 
Some had ordinary cups which they filled a block 
away! The limit of efficiency was a pail. Nobody 
did anything in concert with anybody else. The sight 
of these thousands of little midgets, each with his 
teacup, or his teapot, or his tin pail, throwing each 
his mite of water — for which he had to walk a block 
or so — into the ravening roaring furnace of flame 
was a sight as pathetic or as comical as you please. 
They did not seem to have a show in the world. 

Nevertheless, to my vast surprise, the old system 
of the East won out at last. The system of the East 
is that if you get enough labour you can accomplish 
anything. Little by little those thousands of tea- 
kettles of water had their aggregate effect. The 
flames fed themselves out and died down leaving the 
contiguous buildings unharmed save for a little 
scorching. In two hours all was safe, and I returned 
to the hotel, having enjoyed myself hugely. I had, 
however, in the interest and excitement, forgotten 
how deadly is the fever of Mombasa. Midnight in 
pajamas did the business; and shortly I paid well 
for the fun. 



109 



PART III 
NAIROBI 



XIII 
UP FROM THE COAST 

NAIROBI is situated at the far edge of the great 
Athi Plains and just below a range of hills. 
It might about as well have been anywhere else; and 
perhaps better a few miles back in the higher country. 
Whether the funny little narrow guage railroad 
exists for Nairobi, or Nairobi for the railroad, it 
would be difficult to say. Between Mombasa and 
this interior placed-to-order town, certainly, there is 
nothing, absolutely nothing, either in passengers or 
freight, to justify building the line. That distance 
is if I remember it correctly about three hundred 
and twenty miles. A dozen or so names of stations 
appear on the map. These are water tanks, tele- 
graph stations, or small groups of tents in which 
dwell black labourers — on the railroad. 

The way climbs out from the tropical steaming 
coast belt to and across the high scrub desert, and 
then through lower rounded hills to the plains. 
On the desert is only dense thorn brush — and a 
possibility that the newcomer, if he looks very closely, 

"3 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

may to his excitement glimpse his first game ^ in 
Africa. This is a stray duiker or so, tiny grass 
antelopes a foot high. Also in this land is Thirst; 
so that alongside the locomotives, as they struggle 
up grade, in bad seasons, run natives to catch 
precious drops.* An impalpable red dust sifts 
through and into everything. When one descends 
at Voi for dinner he finds his fellow travellers have 
changed complexion. The pale clerk from indoor 
Mombasa has put on a fine healthy sunburn; and the 
company in general present a rich out-of-doors 
bloom. A chance dab with a white napkin comes 
away like fresh paint, however. 

You clamber back into the compartment, with its 
latticed sun shades and its smoked glass windows; 
you let down the narrow canvas bunk; you unfold 
your rug, and settle yourself for repose. It is a 
difficult matter. Everything you touch is gritty. 
The air is close and stifling, like the smoke-charged 
air of a tunnel. If you try to open a window you 
are suffocated with more of the red dust. At last 
you fall into a doze; to awaken nearly frozen! The 
train has climbed into what is, after weeks of the 
tropics, comparative cold; and if you have not been 
warned to carry wraps, you are in danger of con- 
gestions. 

*The Government does much nowadays by means of tank cars. 

114 



UP FROM THE COAST 

The gray dawn comes; and shortly, in the sudden 
tropical fashion, the full light. You look out on a 
wide smiling grass country, with dips and swales, 
and brushy river bottoms, and long slopes and hills 
thrusting up in masses from down below the horizon, 
and singly here and there in the immensities nearer 
at hand. The train winds and doubles on itself 
up the gentle slopes and across the imperceptibly 
nsmg plains. But the interest is not in these wide 
prospects, beautiful and smiling as they may be, 
but in the game. It is everywhere. Far in the 
distance the herds twinkle, half guessed in the 
shimmer of the bottom lands or dotting the sides 
of the hills. Nearer at hand it stares as the train 
rumbles and sways laboriously past. Occasionally 
It even becomes necessary to whistle aside some 
impertinent kongoni that has placed himself between 
the metals! The newcomer has but a theoretical 
knowledge at best of all these animals; and he is 
mtensely interested in identifying the various 
species. The hartebeeste and the wildebeeste he 
learns quickly enough; and of course the zebra and 
the giraffe are unmistakable; but the smaller gazelles 
are legitimate subjects for discussion. The wonder 
of the extraordinary abundance of these wild animals 
mounts as the hours slip by. At the stops for water 
or for orders the passengers gather from their 

"S 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

different compartments to detail excitedly to each 
other what they have seen. There is always an 
honest super-enthusiast who believes he has seen 
rhinoceros, lions, or leopards. He is looked upon 
with envy by the credulous, and with exasperation 
by all others. 

So the little train puffs and tugs along. Suddenly 
it happens on a barbed-wire fence, and immediately 
after enters the town of Nairobi. The game has 
persisted right up to that barbed wire fence. 

That station platform is thronged with a hetero- 
geneous multitude of people. The hands of a dozen 
raggetty black boys are stretched out for luggage. 
The newcomer sees with delight a savage with a tin 
can in his stretched ear lobe; another with a set of 
wooden skewers set fanwise around the edge of the 
ear; he catches a glimpse of a beautiful naked 
creature, very proud, very decorated with beads and 
heavy polished wire. Then he is ravished away 
by the friend, or agent, or hotel representative who 
has met him, and hurried out through the gates 
between the impassive and dignified Sikh sentries 
to the hack. I believe nobody but the newcomer 
ever rides in the hack; and then but once, from the 
station to the hotel. After that he uses rickshaws. 
In fact it is probable that the hack is maintained 
for the sole purpose of giving the newcomer a grand 

ii6 




Masai women at a station of the Uganda Railroad 




Train on the Uganda Railway 



UP FROM THE COAST 

and impressive entrance. This brief fleeting quarter 
hour of glory is unique and passes. It is like crossing 
the Line, or the first kiss, something that in its 
nature cannot be repeated. 

The hack was once a noble vehicle, compounded 
of opulent curves, with a very high driver's box in 
front, a little let-down bench, and a deep luxurious 
shell-shaped back seat reclining in which one 
received the adulation of the populace. That was 
in its youth. Now in its age the varnish is gone; 
the upholstery of the back seat frayed; the uphol- 
stery of the small seat seat lacking utterly, so that 
one sits on bare boards. In place of two dignifiedly 
spirited fat white horses, it is drawn by two very 
small mules in a semi-detached position far ahead. 
And how it rattles 1 

Between the station and the hotel at Nairobi is a 
long, straight, wide, well-made street, nearly a mile 
long, and bordered by a double row of young 
eucalyptus. These latter have changed the main 
street of Nairobi from the sunbaked array of galvan- 
ized houses described by travellers of a half dozen 
years back to a thoroughfare of great charm. The 
iron houses and stores are now in a shaded back- 
ground; and the attention is freed to concentrate 
on the vivid colouring, the incessant movement, the 
great interest of the people moving to and fro. 

117 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

When I left Nairobi the authorities were considering 
the removal of these trees because one row of them 
had been planted slightly within the legal limits of 
the street. What they could interfere with in a 
practically horseless town I cannot imagine; but 
trust this stupidity gave way to second thought. 

The hack rattles and careers up the the length of 
the street, scattering rickshaws and pedestrians 
from before its triumphant path. To the left opens a 
wide street of little booths under iron awnings, hung 
with gay colour and glittering things. The street 
is thronged from side to side with natives of all sorts. 
It whirls past; and shortly after the hack dashes 
inside a fence and draws up before the low stone- 
built, wide-verandaed hotel. 



ii8 



XIV 

A FIAT TOWN 

IT HAS been, as I have said, the fashion to speak 
of Nairobi as an ugly little town. This was 
probably true when the first corrugated iron houses 
huddled unrelieved near the railway station. It is 
not true now. The lower part of town is well planted 
and is always picturesque as long as its people are 
astir. The white population have built in the 
wooded hills some charming bungalows surrounded by 
bright flowers or lost amid the trunks of great trees. 
From the heights on which is Government House 
one can, with a glass, watch the game herds feeding 
on the plains. Two Country Clubs with the usual 
games of golf, polo, tennis — especially tennis — 
football and cricket; a weekly hunt, with jackals 
instead of foxes ; a bungalow town club on the slope 
of a hill; an electric light system; a race track; a rifle 
range; frilly parasols and the latest fluffiest summer 
toilettes from London and Paris — I mention a few 
of the refinements of civilization that offer to the 
traveller some of the most piquant of contrasts. 

119 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

For it must not be forgotten that Nairobi, in spite 
of these things — due to the direct but slender 
thread of communication by railroad and ships — 
is actually in the middle of an African wilderness; 
is a black man's town, as far as numbers go.* 

The game feeds to its very outskirts, even wanders 
into the streets at night.f Lions may be heard 
roaring within a mile or so of town; and leopards 
occasionally at night come on the verandas of the 
outlying dwellings. Naked savages from the jungle 
untouched by civilization in even the minutest 
particular wander the streets unabashed. 

It is this constantly recurring, sharply drawn 
contrast that gives Nairobi its piquant charm. 
As one sits on the broad hotel veranda a constantly 
varied pageant passes before him. A daintily dressed, 
fresh-faced Englishwoman bobs by in a smart rick- 
shaw drawn by two uniformed runners; a Kikuyu, 
annointed, curled, naked, brass adorned, teeters 
along, an expression of satisfaction on his face; a 
horseman, well appointed, trots briskly by followed 
by his loping syce; a string of skin-clad women, their 
heads fantastically shaved, heavily ornamented, 
lean forward under the burden of firewood for the 
market; a beautiful baby in a frilled baby cab is 

*Fifteen hundred whites to twelve thousand natives, approximately. 
tThis happened twice while I was in the country. 

120 



A FIAT TOWN 

propelled by a tall, solemn, fine-looking black man 
in white robe and cap ; the driver of a high cart tools 
his animal past a creaking, clumsy, two-wheeled 
wagon drawn by a pair of small humpbacked native 
oxen. And so it goes, all day long, without end. 
The public rickshaw boys just across the way chatter 
and game and quarrel and keep a watchful eye out 
for a possible patron on whom to charge vociferously 
at full tilt. Two or three old-timers with white 
whiskers and red faces continue to slaughter thou- 
sands and thousands and thousands of lions from 
the depths of their easy chairs. 

The stone veranda of that hotel is a very interest- 
ing place. Here gather men from all parts of East 
Africa, from Uganda, and the jungles of the Upper 
Congo. At one time or another all the famous 
hunters drop into its canvas chairs — Cuninghame, 
Allan Black, Judd, Outram, Hoey, and the others; 
white traders with the natives of distant lands; 
owners of farms experimenting bravely on a greater 
or lesser scale in a land whose difficulties are just 
beginning to be understood; great naturalists and 
scientists from the governments of the earth, eager 
to observe and collect in this interesting and teeming 
fauna; and sportsmen just out and full of inter- 
est or just returned and modestly important. More 
absorbing conversation can be listened to on this 

121 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

veranda than in any other one place in the world. 
The gathering is cosmopolitan; it is representative of 
the most active of every social, political, and racial 
element; it has done things ; it contemplates vital prob- 
lems from the vantage ground of experience. The talk 
veers from pole to pole — and returns always to lions. 

Every little while a native — a raw savage — 
comes along and takes up a stand just outside the 
railing. He stands there mute and patient for five 
minutes — a half hour — until some one, any one, 
happens to notice him. 

"N'^jo! — come here!" commands this person. 

The savage proffers a bit of paper on which is writ- 
ten the name of the one with whom he has business. 

^'Nenda officie!^^ indicates the charitable person 
waving his hand toward the hotel office. Then, and 
not until this permission has been given by some one, 
dares the savage cross the threshold to do his errand. 

If the messenger happens to be a trained houseboy, 
however, dressed in his uniform of khaki or his more 
picturesque white robe and cap, he is privileged to 
work out his own salvation. And behind the hotel 
are rows and rows of other boys, each waiting 
patiently the pleasure of his especial hwana loung- 
ing at ease after strenuous days. At the drawling 
shout of "boy!" one of them instantly departs to 
find out which particular boy is wanted. 

122 



A FIAT TOWN 

The moment any white man walks to the edge of 
the veranda a half dozen of the rickshaws across the 
street career madly around the corners of the fence, 
bumping, colliding, careening dangerously, to drop 
beseechingly in serried confusion close around the 
step. The rickshaw habit is very strong in Nairobi. 
If a man wants to go three blocks down the street, 
he takes a rickshaw for that stupendous journey. 
There is in justification the legend that the white 
man should not exert himself in the tropics. I fell 
into the custom of the country until I reflected that 
it would hardly be more fatal for me to walk a half 
hour in the streets of Nairobi than to march six or 
seven hours — as I often did — when on safari or 
in the hunting field. After that I got a little exercise 
to the vast scandal of the rickshaw boys. In fact, 
so unusual was my performance that at first I had 
fairly to clear myself a way with my kiboko. After 
a few experiences they concluded me a particularly 
crazy person and let me alone. 

Rickshaws, however, are very efficient and very 
cheap. The runners two in number, are lithe little 
round-headed Kavirondos, generally, their heads 
shaved to leave a skullcap, clad in scant ragged 
garments, and wearing each an anklet of little bells. 
Their passion for ornament they confine to small 
bright things in their hair and ears. They run easily, 

123 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

with a very long stride. Even steep hills they 
struggle up somehow, zigzagging from one side of 
the road to the other, edging along an inch or so at a 
time. In such places I should infinitely have pre- 
ferred to have walked, but that would have lost me 
caste everywhere. There are limits even to a crazy 
man's idiosyncrasies. For that reason I never 
thoroughly enjoyed rickshaws; save along the level 
ways with bells jingling and feet pat-patting a rapid 
tune. Certainly I did not enjoy them going down 
the steep hills. The boy between the shafts in front 
hits the landscape about every forty feet. I do not 
really object to sudden death; but this form of it 
seemed unfair to some poor hungry lion. 

However the winding smooth roads among the 
forested, shaded bungalows of the upper part of 
town were very attractive, especially toward evening. 
At that time the universal sun helmet or double 
terai could be laid aside for straw hats, cloth caps, or 
bare heads. People played the more violent games, 
or strolled idly. At the hotel there was now a good 
deal of foolish drinking; foolish, because in this 
climate it is very bad for the human system, and 
in these surroundings of much interest and excite- 
ment the relief of its exaltation from monotony or 
ennui or routine could hardly be required. 



124 




Savages from the jungle untouched by civilization 
wander the streets unabashed" 



XV 
PEOPLE 

CONSIDERED as a class rather than as indiv- 
iduals the dark-skinned population is easily the 
more interesting. Considered as individuals, the con- 
verse is true. Men like Sir Percy Girouard, Hobley, 
Jackson, Lord Delamere, McMillan, Cuninghame, 
Allan Black, Leslie Tarleton, Vanderweyer, the Hill 
cousins. Home, and a dozen others are nowhere else 
to be met in so small a community. But the whites 
have developed nothing in their relations one to an- 
other essentially different. The artisan and shop- 
keeping class well on the flats; the Government 
people and those of military connections live on the 
heights one side of the little stream; the civil-service 
and bigger business men among the hills on the other. 
Between them all is a little jealousy, and contempt, 
and condescension; just as there is jealousy, and con- 
tempt, and condescension elsewhere. They are pleas- 
ant people, and hospitable, and some of them very 
distinguished in position or achievement; and I am 
glad to say I have good friends among them. 

But the native is the joy, and the never-ceasing 

I2S 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

delight. For his benefit is the wide, glittering, 
colourful, unsanitary bazaar, with its dozens of little 
open-air veranda shops, its "hotels" where he can 
sit in a real chair and drink real tea, its cafes, and 
the dark mysteries of its more doubtful amusements. 
The bazaar is whack in the middle of town, just 
where it ought not to be, and it is constantly being 
quarantined, and threatened with removal. Jt 
houses a large population mysteriously, for it is of 
slight extent. Then on the borders of town are the 
two great native villages — one belonging to the 
Somalis; and the other hospitably accommodating 
the swarms of caravan porters and their families. 
For, just as in old days Mombasa and Zanzibar used 
to be the points from which caravans into the interior 
would set forth, now Nairobi outfits the majority 
of expeditions. Probably ten thousand picked 
natives of various tribes are engaged in the pro- 
fession. Of course but a small proportion of this 
number is ever at home at any one time; but the 
village is a large one. Both these villages are built 
in the native style, of plaster and thatch; have their 
own headman government — under supervision — 
and are kept pretty well swept out and tidy. Be- 
side these three main gathering places are many 
camps and '^ shambas^^* scattered everywhere; and 

*Native farmlets, generally temporary. 

126 



PEOPLE 

the back country counts millions of raw jungle 
savages, only too glad to drift in occasionally for a 
look at the metropolis. 

At first the newcomer is absolutely bewildered by 
the variety of these peoples; but after a little he 
learns to differentiate. The Somalis are perhaps 
the first recognizable, with their finely chiselled, 
intelligent, delicate brown features, their slender 
forms, and their strikingly picturesque costumes of 
turbans, flowing robes, and embroidered sleeveless 
jackets. Then he learns to distinguish the savage 
from the sophisticated dweller of the town. Later 
comes the identification of the numerous tribes. 

The savage comes in just as he has been for, 
ethnologists alone can guess, how many thousands 
of years. He is too old an institution to have been 
affected as yet by this tiny spot of modernity in the 
middle of the wilderness. As a consequence he 
startles the newcomer even more than the sight of 
giraffes on the skyline. 

When the shenzi — wild man — comes to town 
he gathers in two or three of his companions, and 
presents himself as follows: His hair has been 
grown quite long, then gathered in three tight pig- 
tails wound with leather, one of which hangs over 
his forehead, and the other two over his ears. The 
entire head he has then annointed with a mixture 

127 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

of castor oil and a bright red colouring earth. This 
is wiped away evenly all around the face, about two 
inches below the hair, to leave a broad, bandlike, 
glistening effect around the entire head. The ears 
are most marvellous. From early youth the lobes 
have been stretched, until at last they have become 
like two long elastic loops, hanging down upon the 
shoulders, and capable of accommodating anything 
up to and including a tomato can. When in fatigue 
uniform these loops are caught up over the tops of the 
ears; but on dress parade they accommodate almost 
anything considered ornamental. I have seen a 
row of safety pins clasped in them or a number of 
curtain rings; or a marmalade jar, or the glittering 
cover of a tobacco tin. The edges of the ears, all 
around to the top, are pierced. Then the inser- 
tion of a row of long, white, wooden skewers gives 
one a peculiarly porcupinish look; or a row of little 
brass danglers hints of wealth. Having thus 
finished off his head, your savage clasps around his 
neck various strings of beads; or collars of iron or 
copper wire, polished to the point of glitter; puts on 
a half dozen armlets and leglets of the same; ties on a 
narrow bead belt in which is thrust a short sword; 
annoints himself all over with reddened castor oil 
until he glistens and shines in the sun; rubs his legs 
with white clay and traces patterns therein; seizes 

128 




:3 




PEOPLE 

his long-bladed spear, and Is ready for the city. 
Oh, no! I forgot — and he probably came near doing 
so — his strip of 'Mericani.* This was originally 
white, but constant wear over castor oil has turned 
it a uniform and beautiful brown. 

The purpose of this is ornament, and it is so worn. 
There has been an attempt, I understand, to force 
these innocent children to some sort of conventional 
decency while actually in the streets of Nairobi. 
It was too large an order. Some bring in clothes, 
to be sure, because the white man asks it; but why 
no sensible man could say. They are hung from one 
shoulder, flap merrily in the breeze, and are always 
quite frankly tucked up about the neck or under 
the arms when the wearer happens to be in haste. 
As a matter of fact, these savages are so beautifully 
and smoothly formed; their red-brown or chocolate- 
brown skin is so fine in texture, and their complete 
unconsciousness so genuine that in an hour the new- 
comer is quite accustomed to their nakedness. 

These proud youths wander mincingly down the 
street with an expression of the most fatuous and 
good-natured satisfaction with themselves. To 
their minds they have evidently done every last 
thing that human ingenuity or convention could 
encompass. 

*White cotten cloth. 

129 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

They are the dandies, the proud young aristocracy 
of wealth and importance; and of course they may 
differ individually or tribally from the sample I have 
offered. Also there are many other social grades. 
Those who care less for dress or have less to get it 
with can rub along very cheaply. The only real 
essentials are (a) something for the ear — a tomato 
can will do; (b) a trifle for clothing — and for that 
a scrap of gunny sacking will be quite enough. 

The women to be seen in the streets of Nairobi 
are mostly of the Kikuyu tribe. They are pretty 
much of a pattern. Their heads are shaven, either 
completely or to leave only ornamental tufts; and 
are generally bound with a fine wire fillet so tightly 
that the strands seem to sink into the flesh. A 
piece of cotton cloth, dyed dark umber red, is belted 
around the waist, and sometimes, but not always, 
another is thrown about the shoulders. They go in 
for more hardware than do the men. The entire 
arms and the calves of the legs are encased in a sort 
of armour made of quarter-inch wire wound closely, 
and a collar of the same material stands out like a 
ruff eight or ten inches around the neck. This is 
wound on for keeps; and must be worn day and night 
and all the time, a cumbersome and tremendously 
heavy burden. A dozen large loops of coloured 
beads strung through the ears, and various strings 

130 



PEOPLE 

and necklaces of beads, cowrie shells and the like, 
finish them out in all their gorgeousness. They 
would sink like plummets. Their job in life, beside 
lugging all this stuff about, is to carry in firewood 
and forage. At any time of the day long files of 
them can be seen bending forward under their bur- 
dens. These they carry on their backs by means 
of a strap across the tops of their heads; after the 
fashion of the Canadian tump line. 

The next cut above the shenzi, or wild man, is the 
individual who has been on safari as carrier, or has 
otherwise been much employed around white men. 
From this experience he has acquired articles of 
apparel and points of view. He is given to ragged 
khaki, or cast-off garments of all sorts; but never to 
shoes. This hint of the conventional only serves to 
accent the little self-satisfied excursions he makes 
into barbarism. The shirt is always worn outside, 
the ear ornaments are as varied as ever, the head is 
shaved in strange patterns, a tiny tight tuft on the 
crown is useful as fastening for feathers or little 
streamers or anything else that will wave or glitter. 
One of these individuals wore a red label he had — 
with patience and difficulty — removed from one of 
our trunks. He had pasted it on his forehead; and 
it read "Baggage Room, Not Wanted." These 
people are, after all, but modified shenzis. The 

131 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

modification is nearly always in the direction of the 
comic. 

Now we step up to a class that would resent being 
called shenzis as it would resent an insult. This is 
the personal servant class. The members are of all 
tribes, with possibly a slight preponderance of 
Swahilis and Somalis. They are a very clean, well- 
groomed, self-respecting class, with a great deal of 
dignity and a great deal of pride in their hwanas. 
Also they are exceedingly likely to degenerate unless 
ruled with a firm hand and a wise head. Very rarely 
are they dishonest as respects the possessions of 
their own masters. They understand their work 
perfectly, and the best of them get the equivalent 
of from eight to ten dollars a month. Every white 
individual has one or more of them; even the tiny 
children with their ridiculous little sun helmets are 
followed everywhere by a tall, solemn, white-robed 
black. Their powers of divination approach the 
uncanny. About the time you begin to think of 
wanting something, and are making a first helpless 
survey of a boyless landscape, your own servant 
suddenly, mysteriously, and unobtrusively appears 
from nowhere. Where he keeps himself, where he 
feeds himself, where he sleeps you do not know. 
These beautifully clean, trim, dignified people are 
always a pleasant accent in the varied picture. 

132 



PEOPLE 

The Somalis are a clan by themselves. A few of 
them condescend to domestic service, but the mast 
prefer the free life of traders, horse dealers, gun- 
bearers, camel drivers, labour go-betweens, and 
similar guerrilla occupations. They are handsome, 
dashing, proud, treacherous, courageous, likeable, 
untrustworthy. They career around on their high, 
short-stirruped saddles; they saunter indolently in 
small groups; they hang about the hotel hoping 
for a dicker of some kind. There is nothing of the 
savage about them, but much of the true barbarian, 
with the barbarian's pride, treachery, and love of 
colour. 



133 



XVI 
RECRUITING 

TO THE traveller Nairobi is most interesting as 
the point from which expeditions start and to 
which they return. Doubtless an extended stay in 
the country would show him that problems of ad- 
ministration and possibilities of development could 
be even more absorbing; but such things are very 
sketchy to him at first. 

As a usual thing, when he wants porters he picks 
them out from the throng hanging around the big 
outfitters' establishments. Each man is then given 
a blanket — cotton, but of a most satisfying red — 
a tin water bottle, a short stout cord, and a navy 
blue jersey. After that ceremony he is yours. 

But on the occasion of one three months' journey 
into comparatively unknown country we ran up 
against difficulties. Some two weeks before our 
contemplated start two or three cases of bubonic 
plague had been discovered in the bazaar, and as a 
consequence Nairobi was quarantined. This meant 
that a rope had been stretched around the infected 

134 



RECRUITING 

area, that the shops had been closed, and that no 
native could — officially — leave Nairobi. The lat- 
ter provision affected us; for under it we should be 
unable to get our bearers out. 

As a matter of fact, the whole performance — 
unofficially — was a farce. Natives conversed affa- 
bly at arm's length across the ropes; hundreds 
sneaked in and out of town at will; and from the rear 
of the infected area I personally saw beds, chests, 
household goods, blankets, and clothes, passed to 
friends outside the ropes. When this latter condition 
was reported, in my presence, to the medical officers, 
they replied that this was a matter for police 
cognizance! But the brave outward show of ropes, 
disinfectants, gorgeous sentries — in front — and 
official inspection went solemnly on. Great, even 
in Africa, is the god of red tape. 

Our only possible plan, in the circumstances, was 
to recruit the men outside the town to camp them 
somewhere, march them across country to a way 
station and there embark them. Our goods and 
safari stores we could then ship out to them by train. 

Accordingly we rode on bicycles out to the Swahili 
village. 

This is, as I have said, composed of large ''bee- 
hive" houses thatched conically with straw. The 
roofs extend to form verandas beneath which sit 

T3S 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

indolent damsels, their hair divided in innumerable 
tiny parts running fore and aft like the stripes on a 
watermelon; their figured 'Mericani garments draped 
gracefully. As befitted the women of plutocrats, 
they wore much jewellery, some of it set in their 
noses. Most of them did all of nothing, but some 
sat half buried in narrow strips of bright-coloured 
tissue paper. These they were pasting together like 
rolls of tape, the coloured edges of the paper forming 
concentric patterns on the resultant disks — an 
infinite labour. The disks, when completed, were 
for insertion in the lobes of the ears. 

When we arrived the irregular "streets" of the 
village were nearly empty, save for a few elegant 
youths, in long kanzuas, or robes of cinnamon colour 
and spotless white, on their head's fezzes or turbans, 
in their hands slender rattan canes. They were 
very busy talking to each other, and of course did not 
notice the idle beauties beneath the verandas. 

Hardly had we appeared, however, when mysteri- 
ously came forth the headman — a bearded, 
solemn. Arablike person with a phenomenally ugly 
face but a most pleasing smile. We told him we 
wanted porters. He clapped his hands. To the four 
young men who answered this summons he gave 
a command. From sleepy indolence they sprang 
into life. To the four cardinal points of the compass 

136 



RECRUITING 

they darted away, running up and down the side 
streets, beating on the doors, screaming at the tops 
of their lungs the word "C^zz"* over and over again. 

The village hummed like a wasp's nest. Men 
poured from the huts in swarms. The streets were 
filled; the idle sauntering youths were swamped and 
sunk from view. Clamour and shouting arose 
where before had been a droning silence. The mob 
beat up to where we stood, surrounding us, shouting 
at us. From somewhere some one brought an old 
table and two decrepit chairs, battered and rickety 
in themselves, but symbols of great authority in a 
community where nobody habitually used either. 
Two naked boys proudly took charge of our bicycles. 

We seated ourselves. 

"Fall in!" we yelled. 

About half the crowd fell into rough lines. The 
rest drew slightly one side. Nobody stopped talking 
for a single instant. 

We arose and tackled our job. The first part of 
it was to segregate the applicants into their different 
tribes 

''Monumzvezi hapa!^^ we yelled; and the command 
was repeated and repeated again by the headman, 
by his four personal assistants, by a half dozen lesser 
headmen. Slowly the Monumwezi drew aside. 

♦Work. 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

We impressed on them emphatically they must stay 
put, and went after, in turn, the Baganda, the 
Wakamba, the Swahilis, the Kavirondo, the Kikuyu. 
When we had them grouped, we went over them 
individually. We punched their chests, we ran over 
all their joints, we examined their feet, we felt their 
muscles. Our victims stood rigidly at inspection, 
but their numerous friends surrounded us closely, 
urging the claims of the man to our notice. It was 
rather confusing, but we tried to go at it as though 
we were alone in a wilderness. If the man passed 
muster we motioned him to a rapidly growing group. 

When we had finished, we had about sixty men 
segregated. Then we went over this picked lot 
again. This time we tried not only to get good 
specimens, but to mix our tribes. At last our count 
of twenty-nine was made up, and we took a deep 
breath. But to us came one of them complaining 
that he was a Monumwezi, and that we had picked 

only three Monumwezi, and We cut him short. 

His contention was quite correct. A porter tent 
holds five, and it does not do to mix tribes. Re- 
organization! Cut out two extra Kavirondos, and 
include two more Monumwezi. ^^Bass! finished!" 
Now go get your effects. We start immediately. 

As quickly as it had filled, the street cleared. 
The rejected dove back into their huts, the newly 

138 



RECRUITING 

enlisted carriers went to collect their baggage. 
Only remained the headman and his fierce-faced 
assistants, and the splendid youths idling up and 
down — none of them had volunteered, you may be 
sure — and the damsels of leisure beneath the 
porticos. Also one engaging and peculiar figure 
hovering near. 

This individual had been particularly busy during 
our recruiting. He had hustled the men into line, 
he had advised us for or against different candidates, 
he had loudly sung my praises as a man to work for, 
although, of course, he knew nothing about me. 
Now he approached, saluted, smiled. He was a tall, 
slenderly built person, with phenomenally long, thin 
legs, slightly rounded shoulders, a forward thrust, 
keen face, and remarkably long, slim hands. With 
these he gesticulated much, in a right-angled fashion, 
after the manner of Egyptian hieroglyphical figures. 
He was in no manner shenzi. He wore a fez, a neat 
khaki coat and shorts, blue puttees and boots. 
Also a belt with leather pockets, a bunch of keys, a 
wrist watch and a seal ring. His air was of great 
elegance and social ease. We took him with us as 
Cuninghame's gunbearer. He proved staunch, a good 
tracker, an excellent hunter, and a most engaging 
individual. His name was Kongoni, and he was a 
Wakamba. 

139 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

But now we were confronted with a new problem: 
that of getting our twenty-nine chosen ones to- 
gether again. They had totally disappeared. In all 
directions we had emissaries beating up the laggards. 
As each man reappeared carrying his little bundle, 
we lined him up with his companions. Then when 
we turned our backs we lost him again; he had 
thought of another friend with whom to exchange 
farewells. At the long last however, we got them 
all collected. The procession started, the naked 
boys proudly wheeling our bikes alongside. We 
saw them fairly clear of everything, then turned 
them over to Kongoni, while we returned to Nairobi 
to see after our effects. 



140 



PART IV 
A LION HUNT ON KAPITI 



XVII 
AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS 

THIS has to do with a lion hunt on the Kapiti 
Plains. On the veranda at Nairobi I had some 
time previous met Clifford Hill, who had invited me 
to visit him at the ostrich farm he and his cousin 
were running in the mountains near Machakos. 
Some time later, a visit to Juja Farm gave me the 
opportunity. Juja is only a day's ride from the 
Hills'. So an Africander, originally from the south, 
Captain Duirs, and I sent across a few carriers with 
our personal effects, and ourselves rode over on horse- 
back. 

Juja is on the Athi Plains. Between the Athi and 
Kapiti Plains runs a range of low mountains around 
the end of which one can make his way as around 
a promontory. The Hills' ostrich farm was on 
highlands in the bay the other side of the promontory. 

It was toward the close of the rainy season, and 
the rivers were up. We had to swim our horses 
within a half mile of Juja, and got pretty wet. 
Shortly after crossing the Athi, however, five miles 

143 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

on, we emerged on the dry, drained slopes from the 
hills. Here the grass was long, and the ticks 
plenty. Our horses' legs and chests were black with 
them; and when we dismounted for lunch we our- 
selves were almost immediately alive with the pests. 
In this very high grass the game was rather scarce, 
but after we had climbed by insensible grades to the 
shorter growth we began to see many hartebeeste, 
zebra, and gazelles, and a few of the wildebeeste, or 
brindled gnus. Travel over these great plains, and 
through these leisurely low hills is a good deal like 
coastwise sailing; the same apparently unattainable 
landmarks which, nevertheless, are at last passed 
and left astern by the same sure but insensible 
progress. Thus we drew up on apparently contin- 
uous hills, found wide gaps between them, crossed 
them, and turned to the left along the other side of 
the promontory. About five o'clock we came to the 
Hills'. 

The ostrich farm is situated on the very top of a 
conical rise that sticks up like an island close inshore 
to the semicircle of mountains in which end the vast 
plains of Kapiti. Thus the Hills have at their backs 
and sides these solid ramparts and face westward 
the immensities of space. For Kapiti goes on over i 
the edge of the world to unknown, unguessed regions, 
rolling and troubled like a sea. And from that 

144 




U 






AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS 

unknown, on very still days, the snowy peak of 
Kilimanjaro peers out, sketched as faintly against 
the sky as a soap bubble wafted upward and about 
to disappear. Here and there on the plains kopjes 
stand like islands, their stone tops looking as though 
thrust (from beneath) through the smooth prairie 
surface. To them meandered long, narrow ravines 
full of low brush, like thin, wavering streaks of gray. 
On these kopjes — each of which had its name — 
and in these ravines we were to hunt the lions. 

We began the ascent of the cone on which dwelt 
our hosts. It was one of those hills that seem in no 
part steep, and yet which finally succeed in raising 
one to a considerable height. We passed two ostrich 
herds in charge of savages, rode through a scattered 
native village, and so came to the farm itself, 
situated on the very summit. 

The house consisted of three large circular huts, 
thatched neatly with papyrus stalks, and with 
conical roofs. These were arranged as a triangle, 
just touching each other; and the space between 
had been roofed over to form a veranda. We were 
ushered in to one of these circular rooms. It was 
spacious and contained two beds, two chairs, a 
dresser, and a table. Its earth floor was completely 
covered by the skins of animals. In the correspond- 
ing room, opposite, slept our hosts; while the third 

145 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

hut was the living and dining-room. A long table, 
rawhide bottomed chairs, a large sideboard, book- 
cases, a long easy settee with pillows, gun racks, 
photographs in and out of frames, a table with writing 
materials, and books and magazines everywhere — 
not to speak of again the skins of many animals 
completely covering the floor. Out behind, in small 
separate buildings functioned the cook, and dwelt 
the stores, the bathtub, and other such necessary 
affairs. 

As soon as we had consumed the usual grateful 
lime juice and sparklets, we followed our hosts into 
open air to look around. 

On this high, airy hilltop the Hills some day are 
going to build them a real house. In anticipation 
they have laid out grounds and have planted many 
things. In examining these my California training 
stood by me. Out there, as here, one so often 
examines his own and his neighbours' gardens not 
for what they are but for what they shall become. 
His imagination can exalt this tiny seedling to the 
impressiveness of spreading noontime shade; can 
magnify yonder apparent duplicate to the full 
symmetry of a shrub; can ruthlessly diminish the 
present importance of certain grand and lofty 
growths to their true status of flower or annual. So 
from a dead uniformity of size he casts forward in 

146 



AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS 

the years to a pleasing variation of shade, of jungle, 
of open glade, of flowered vista; and he goes away 
full of expert admiration for "X.'s bully garden." 
With this solid training beneath me I was able on 
this occasion to please immensely. 

From the house site we descended the slope to 
where the ostriches and the cattle and the people 
were in the last sunlight swarming upward from the 
plains pastures below. These people were to the 
most extent Wakamba, quite savage, but attracted 
here by the justness and fair dealing of the Hills. 
Some of them farmed on shares with the Hills, the 
white men furnishing the land and seed, and the 
black men the labour; some of them laboured on 
wage; some few herded cattle or ostriches; some 
were hunters, and took the field only when, as now, 
serious business was afoot. They had their complete 
villages, with priests, witch doctors, and all; and they 
seemed both contented and fond of the two white 
men. 

As we walked about we learned much of the 
ostrich business; and in the course of our ten days' 
visit we came to a better realization of how much 
there is to think of in what appears basically so 
simple a proposition. 

In the nesting time, then, the Hills went out over 
the open country, sometimes for days at a time, 

147 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

armed with long high-power telescopes. With 
these fearsome and unwieldy instruments they 
surveyed the country inch by inch from the advan- 
tage of a kopje. When thus they discovered a nest, 
they descended and appropriated the eggs. The 
latter, hatched at home in an incubator, formed the 
nucleus of a flock. 

Pass the raising of ostrich chicks to full size 
through the difficulties of disease, wild beasts, and 
sheer cussedness. Of the resultant thirty birds or so 
of the season's catch but two or three will even 
promise good production. These must be bred in 
captivity with other likely specimens. Thus after 
several years the industrious ostrich farmer may 
become possessed of a few really prime birds. To 
accumulate a proper flock of such in a new country is 
a matter of a decade or so. Extra prime birds are 
as well known, and as much in demand for breeding 
as any blooded horse in a racing country. Your 
true ostrich enthusiast, like the Hills, possesses 
trunks full of feathers, not good commercially, but 
intensely interesting for comparison and for the 
purposes of prophecy. While I stayed with them 
came a rumour of a very fine plucking a distant 
neighbour had just finished from a likely two-year- 
old. The Hills were manifestly uneasy until one 
of them had ridden the long distance to compare 

148 



AN OSTRICH FARM AT MACHAKOS 

this newcomer's product with that of their own two- 
year-olds. And I shall never forget the reluctantly 
admiring shake of the head with which he acknowl- 
ledged that it was indeed a "very fine feather 1" 

But getting the birds is by no means all of ostrich 
farming, as many eager experimenters have dis- 
covered to their cost. The birds must have a 
certain sort of pasture land; and their paddocks 
must be built on an earth that will not soil or break 
the edges of the new plumes. 

And then there is the constant danger of wild 
beasts. When a man has spent years in gathering 
suitable flocks, he cannot be blamed for wild anger 
when, as happened while I was in the country, lions 
kill sixty or seventy birds in a night. The ostrich 
seems to tempt lions greatly. The beasts will 
make their way through and over the most compli- 
cated defences. Any ostrich farmer's life is a 
constant warfare against them. Thus the Hills 
had slain sixty-eight lions in and near their farm — 
a tremendous record. Still the beasts continued to 
come in. My hosts showed me with considerable 
pride their arrangements finally evolved for night 
protection. 

The ostriches were confined in a series of heavy 
corrals segregating the birds of different ages. 
Around the outside of this group of enclosures ran 

149 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

a wide ring corral in which were confined the nu- 
merous cattle; and as an outer wall to this were built 
the huts of the Wakamba village. Thus to pene- 
trate to the ostriches the enterprising lion would 
have to pass both the people, the cattle, and the 
strong thorn and log structures that contained them. 

This subject brings me to another set of acquaint- 
ances we had already made — the dogs. 

These consisted of an Airedale named Ruby; two 
setters called Wayward and Girlie; a heavy black 
mongrel, Nero; ditto brindle, Ben; and a smaller 
black and white ditto, Ranger. They were very 
nice, friendly doggy dogs, but they did not look like 
lion hunters. Nevertheless, Hill assured us that 
they were of great use in the sport, and promised us 
that on the following day we should see just how. 



ISO 



XVIII 
THE FIRST LIONESS 

AT AN early hour we loaded our bedding, food, 
tents, and camp outfit on a two-wheeled wagon 
drawn by four of the humpbacked native oxen, 
and sent it away across the plains with instructions 
to make camp on a certain kopje. Clifford Hill 
and myself, accompanied by our gunbearers and 
syces, then rode leisurely down the length of a 
shallow brushy canon for a mile or so. There we 
dismounted and sat down to await the arrival of 
the others. These — including Harold Hill, Captain 
Duirs, five or six Wakamba spearmen, our own 
carriers, and the dogs — came along more slowly, 
beating the bottoms on the off chance of game. 

The sun was just warming, and the bees and 
insects were filling the air with their sleepy droning 
sounds. The sidehill opposite showed many little 
outcrops of rocks so like the hills of our own Western 
States that it was somewhat difficult to realize that 
we were in Africa. For some reason the delay was 
long. Then suddenly all four of us simultaneously 

151 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

saw the same thing. A quarter mile away and 
on the sidehill opposite a magnificent lioness came 
loping easily along through the grass. She looked 
very small at that distance, like a toy, and quite 
unhurried. Indeed, every few moments she paused 
to look back in an annoyed fashion over her shoulder 
in the direction of the row behind her. 

There was nothing to do but sit tight and wait. 
The lioness was headed exactly to cross our front; 
nor, except at one point, was she at all likely to 
deviate. A shallow tributary ravine ran into our 
own about two hundred yards away. She might 
possibly sneak down the bed of this. It seemed 
unlikely. The going was bad, and in addition 
she had no idea as yet that she had been sighted. 
Indeed, the chances were that she would come to a 
definite stop before making the crossing, in which 
case we would get a shot. 

"And if she does go down the donga," whispered 
Hill, "the dogs will locate her." 

Sitting still while things approach is always excit- 
ing. This is true of ducks; but when you multiply 
ducks by lions it is still more true. We all crouched 
very low in the grass. She leaped without hesitation 
into the ravine — and did not emerge. 

This was a disappointment. We concluded she 
must have entered the stream bottom, and were 

152 



THE FIRST LIONESS 

just about to move when Memba Sasa snapped his 
fingers. His sharp eyes had discovered her sneaking 
along, belly to the ground, like the cat she was. 
The explanation of this change in her gait was 
simple. Our companions had rounded the corner 
of the hill and were galloping in plain view a "half 
mile away. The lioness had caught sight of them. 

She was gliding by, dimly visible, through thick 
brush seventy yards distant. Now I could make 
out a tawny patch that faded while I looked; now 
I could merely guess at a melting shadow. 

"Stir her up," whispered Hill. "Never mind 
whether you hit. She'll sneak away. " 

At the shot she leaped fully out into the open with 
a snarl. Promptly I planted a Springfield bullet 
in her ribs. She answered slightly to the hit but did 
not shift position. Her head up, her tail thrashing 
from side to side, her ears laid back, she stood there 
looking the landscape over carefully point by point. 
She was searching for us, but as yet could not locate 
us. It was really magnificent. 

I attempted to throw in another cartridge, but 
because of my desire to work the bolt quietly, in 
order not to attract the lioness's attention, I did not 
pull it back far enough, and the cartridge jammed 
in the magazine. As evidence of Memba Sasa's 
coolness and efiiciency, it is to be written that he 

153 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

became aware of this as soon as I did. He thrust 
the .405 across my right side, at the same time with- 
drawing the Springfield on the left. The motion was 
slight, but the lioness caught it. Immediately she 
dropped her head and charged. 

For the next few moments, naturally, I was pretty 
intent on lions. Nevertheless a corner of my mind 
was aware of Memba Sasa methodically picking 
away at the jammed rifle, and paying no attention 
whatever to the beast. Also I heard Hill making 
picturesque remarks about his gunbearer, who had 
bolted with his second gun. 

The lioness charged very fast, but very straight, 
about in the tearing, scrambling manner of a terrier 
after a thrown ball. I got in the first shot as she 
came, the bullet ranging back from the shoulder and 
Hill followed it immediately with another from his 
.404 Jeffrey. She growled at the bullets, and checked 
very slightly as they hit, but gave no other sign. 
Then our second shots hit her both together. The 
mere shock stopped] her short, but recovering 
instantly, she sprang forward again. Hill's third 
shot came next, and perceptibly slowed and staggered 
but did not stop her. By this time she was quite 
close, and my own third shot reached her brain. 
She rolled over dead. 

Decidedly she was a game beast, and stood more 

154 



THE FIRST LIONESS 

hammering than any other lion I killed or saw 
killed. Before the final shot in the brain she had 
taken one light bullet and five heavy ones with hardly 
a wince. Memba Sasa uttered a loud grunt of 
satisfaction when she went down for keeps. He had 
the Springfield reloaded and cocked, right at my 
elbow. 

Hill's gunboy hovered uncertainly some distance 
in the rear. The sight of the charging lioness had 
been too much for him and he had bolted. He was 
not actually up a tree; but he stood very Hear one. 
He lost the gun and acquired a swift kick. 

Our friends and the men now came up. The dogs 
made a great row over the dead lioness. She was 
measured and skinned to accompaniment of the 
usual low-hummed chantings. We had with us a 
small boy of ten or twelve years whose job it was 
to take care of the dogs and to remove ticks. In 
fact he was known as the Tick Toto. As this was 
his first expedition afield, his father took especial 
pains to smear him with fat from the lioness. This 
was to make him brave. I am bound to confess the 
effect was not immediate. 



iSS 



XIX 
THE DOGS 

1S00N discovered that we were hunting lions 
with the assistance of the dogs; not that the 
dogs were hunting lions. They had not lost any 
lions, not they! My mental pictures of the snarl- 
ing, magnificent king of beasts surrounded by an 
equally snarling, magnificent pack vanished into 
thin air. 

Our system was to cover as much likely country 
as we could, and to let the dogs have a good time. 
As I have before indicated, they were thoroughly 
doggy dogs, and interested in everything — except 
able-bodied lions. None of the stick-at-your-heels 
in their composition. They ranged far and wide 
through all sorts of cover seeking what they could 
find in the way of porcupines, mongoose, hares, 
birds, cats and whatever else should interest any 
healthy-minded dog. If there happened to be any 
lions in the path of these rangings, the dogs retired 
rapidly, discreetly, and with every symptom of 
horrified disgust. If a dog came sailing out of a 

156 



THE DOGS 

thicket, ki-yi-ing agitatedly, and took up his position, 
tail between his legs, behind his master, we knew 
there was probably a lion about. Thus we hunted 
lions with dogs. 

But in order to be fair to these most excellent 
canines, it should be recorded that they recovered 
a certain proportion of their nerve after a rifle had 
been fired. They then returned warily to the — 
not attack — reconnaissance. This trait showed 
touching faith, and was a real compliment to the 
marksmanship of their masters. Some day it will 
be misplaced. A little cautious scouting on their 
part located the wounded beast; whereupon, at a 
respectful distance, they lifted their voices. As 
a large element of danger in case of a wounded lion 
is the uncertainty as to his whereabout, it will be 
seen that the dogs were very valuable indeed. They 
seemed to know exactly how badly hit an animal 
might happen to be, and to gauge their distance ac- 
cordingly, until at last, when the quarry was ham- 
mered to harmlessness, they closed in and began 
to worry the nearly lifeless carcass. By this policy 
the dogs had a lot of fun hunting on their own 
hook, preserved their lives from otherwise inevitable 
extinction, and were of great assistance in saving 
their masters' skins. 

One member of the pack, perhaps two, were, 

IS7 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

however, rather pathetic figures. I refer to the 
setters, Wayward and Girlie. Ranger, Ruby, 
Ben, and Nero scampered merrily over the land- 
scape after anything that stirred, from field mice 
to serval cats. All was game to their catholic tastes; 
and you may be sure, in a country like Africa, 
they had few dull moments. But Wayward and 
Girlie had been brought up in a more exclusive 
manner. Their instincts had been supplemented 
by a rigorous early training. Game to them meant 
birds, and birds only. Furthermore, they had been 
solemnly assured by human persons in whom they 
had the utmost confidence that but one sequence 
of events was permissible or even thinkable in the 
presence of game. The Dog at first intimation by 
scent must convey the fact to the Man, must proceed 
cautiously to locate exactly, must then stiffen to 
a point which he must hold staunchly, no matter 
how distracting events might turn out, of how long 
an interval might elapse. The Man must next 
walk up the birds; shoot at them, perhaps kill one, 
then command the Dog to retrieve. The Dog must 
on no account move from his tracks until such 
command is given. All the afi'air is perfectly simple; 
but quite inflexible. Any variation in this procedure 
fills the honest bird dog's mind with the same horror 
and dismay experienced by a well-brought-up young 

iS8 



THE DOGS 

man who discovers that he has on shoes of the wrong 
colour. It isn't done, you know. 

Consider then Wayward and Girlie in a country 
full of game birds. They quarter wide to right, 
then cross to left, their heads high, their feather 
tails waving in the most approved good form. When 
they find birds they draw to their points in the 
best possible style; stiffen out — and wait. It is 
now, according to all good ethics, up to the Man. 
And the Man and his companions go right on by, 
paying absolutely no attention either to the situation 
or our own magnificent piece of work! What is one 
to conclude? That our early training is all wrong? 
that we are at one experience to turn apostate to the 
settled and only correct order of things? Or that 
our masters are no gentlemen. That is a pretty 
difficult thing, an impossible thing, to conclude of 
one's own master. But it leaves one in a fearful 
state mentally; and one has no idea of what to do! 

Wayward was a perfect gentleman, and he played 
the game according to the very best traditions. 
He conscientiously pointed every bird he could get 
his nose on. Furthermore he was absolutely staunch 
and held his point even when the four non-bird dogs 
rushed in ahead of him. The expression of puzzle- 
ment, grief, shock and sadness in his eyes deepened 
as bird after bird soared awav without a shot. 

159 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

Girlie was more liberal-minded. She pointed her 
birds, and backed Wayward at need, but when the 
other dogs rushed her point, she rushed too. And 
when we swept on by her, leaving her on point; 
instead of holding it quixotically, as did Wayward, 
until the bird sneaked away; she merely waited 
until we were out of sight, and then tried to catch 
it. Finally Captain Duirs remarked that lions or no 
lions he was not going to stand it any longer. He 
got out a shotgun and all one afternoon killed grouse 
over Wayward, to the latter's intense relief. His 
ideals had been rehabilitated. 



i6o 



XX 
BONDONI 

WE followed many depressions, in which might 
be lions, until about three o'clock in the 
afternoon. Then we climbed the gently rising long 
slope that culminated, far above the plains, in the 
peak of a hill called Bondoni. From a distance 
it was steep and well defined; but, like most of these 
larger kopjes, its actual ascent, up to the last few 
hundred feet, was so gradual that we hardly knew 
we were climbing. At the summit we found our 
men and the bullock cart. There also stood an 
oblong blockhouse of stone, the walls two feet thick 
and ten feet high. It was entered only by a blind 
angle passage; and was strong enough apparently 
to resist small artillery. This structure was simply 
an ostrich corral! and bitter experience had shown 
the massive construction absolutely necessary as 
adequate protection, in this exposed and solitary 
spot, against the lions. 

We had some tea and bread and butter, and then 
Clifford Hill and I set out afoot after meat. Only 

i6i 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

occasionally do these hard-working settlers get a 
chance for hunting on the plains so near them; 
and now they had promised their native retainers 
that they would send back a treat of game. To 
carry this promised luxury a number of the villagers 
had accompanied the bullock wagon. As we were 
to move on next day, it became very desirable to 
get the meat promptly while still near home. 

We slipped over to the other side, and by good 
fortune caught sight of a dozen zebras feeding in 
scrub halfway down the hill. They were out of 
their proper environment up there, but we were 
glad of it. Down on our tummies then we dropped ; 
and crawled slowly forward through the high, sweet 
grasses. We were in the late afternoon shadow of 
the hill, and we enjoyed the mild skill of the stalk. 
Taking advantage of every cover, slipping over into 
little ravines, lying very flat when one of the beasts 
raised his head, we edged nearer and nearer. We 
were already well within range, but it amused us 
to play the game. Finally, at one hundred yards, 
we came to a halt. The zebra showed very hand- 
some at that range, for even their smaller leg stripes 
were all plainly visible. Of course at that distance 
there could be small chance of missing, and we 
downed one each. The Wakamba, who had been 
watching eagerly, swarmed down shouting. 

162 



BONDONI 

We dined just at sunset under a small tree at 
the very top of the peak. Long bars of light shot 
through the western clouds; the plain turned from 
solid earth to a mysterious sea of shifting twilights; 
the buttes stood up wrapped in veils of soft desert 
colours; Kilimanjaro hung suspended like a rose- 
coloured bubble above the abyss beyond the world. 



163 



XXI 

RIDING THE PLAINS 

FROM the mere point of view of lions, lion 
hunting was very slow work indeed. It meant 
riding all of long days, from dawn until dark, 
investigating miles of country that looked all alike 
and in which we seemed to get nowhere. One by 
one the long billows of plain fell behind, until our 
camphill had turned blue behind us, and we seemed 
to be out in illimitable space, with no possibility, 
in an ordinary lifetime, of ever getting in touch 
with anything again. What from above had looked 
as level as a floor now turned into a tremendously 
wide and placid ground swell. As a consequence 
we were always going imperceptibly up and up and 
up to a long-delayed skyline, or tipping as gently 
down the other side of the wave. From crest to 
crest of these long billows measured two or three 
miles. The vertical distance in elevation from 
trough to top was perhaps not over fifty to one- 
hundred feet. 

Slowly we rode along the shallow grass and brush 

164 



RIDING THE PLAINS 

ravines in the troughs of the low billows, while the 
dogs worked eagerly in and out of cover, and our 
handful of savages cast stones and shouted. Oc- 
casionally we divided forces and beat the length of 
a hill, two of us lying in wait at one end for the 
possible lion, the rest sweeping the sides and sum- 
mits. Many animals came bounding along, but 
no lions. Then Harold Hill, unlimbering a huge, 
many-jointed telescope, would lie flat on his back 
and sight the fearsome instrument over his crossed 
feet, in a general bird's eye view of the plains for 
miles around. While he was at it we were privileged 
to look about us less under the burden of respon- 
sibility. We could make out the game as little, 
light-coloured dots and speckles, thousands upon 
thousands of them, thicker than cattle ever grazed 
on the open range, and as far as the eye could make 
them out, and then a glance through our glasses 
picked them up again for mile after mile. Even 
the six-power could go no farther. The imagina- 
tion was left the vision of more leagues of wild 
animals even to the half-guessed azure mountains 
— and beyond. I had seen abundant game elsewhere 
in Africa, but nothing like the multitudes inhabiting 
the Kapiti Plains at that time of year. In other 
seasons this locality is comparatively deserted. 
The 'scope revealing nothing in our line, we rode 

i6s 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

again to the lower levels, and again took up our 
slow, painstaking search. 

But although three days went by in this manner 
without our getting a glimpse of lions, they were 
far from being days lost. Minor adventure filled 
our hours. What elsewhere would be major interest 
of strange and interesting experience met us at 
every turn. The game, while abundant, was very 
shy. This had nothing to do with distrust of hunters ; 
but merely to the fact that it was the season of 
green grass. We liked to come upon animals un- 
expectedly, to see them buck-jump and cavort. 

Otherwise we rode in a moving space cleared of 
animals, the beasts unobtrusively giving way before 
us, and as unobtrusively closing in behind. The 
sun flashed on the spears of savages travelling 
single file across the distance. Often we stopped 
short to gaze upon a wild and tumbled horizon of 
storm that Gustave Dore might have done. 

The dogs were always joyously routing out some 
beast, desirable from their point of view, and chasing 
it hopelessly about, to our great amusement. Once 
they ran into a giant porcupine — about the size 
a setter would be with shorter legs — which did 
not understand running away. They came upon 
it in a dense thicket, and the ensuing row was unholy. 
They managed to kill the porcupine among them, 

i66 



RIDING THE PLAINS 

after which we plucked barbed quills from some 
very grieved dogs. The quills were large enough 
to make excellent penholders. The dogs also swore 
by all canine gods that they wouldn't do a thing to 
a hyena, if only they could get hold of one. They 
never got hold of one, for the hyena is a coward. 
His skull and teeth, however, are as big and powerful 
as those of a lioness; so I do not know which was 
luckiest in his avoidance of trouble — he or the dogs. 

Nor from the shooting standpoint did we lack 
for sport. We had to shoot for our men; and we 
occasionally needed meat ourselves. It was always 
interesting, when such necessities arose, to stalk 
the shy bucks and do long-range rifle practice. 
This shooting, however, was done only after the 
day's hunt was over. We had no desire to spoil 
our lion chances. 

The long circle toward our evening camp always 
proved very long indeed. We arrived at dusk to 
find supper ready for us. As we were old cam- 
paigners we ate this off chop boxes as tables, and sat 
on the ground. It was served by a Wakamba 
youth we had nicknamed Herbert Spencer, on ac- 
count of his gigantic intellect. Herbert meant well, 
but about all he succeeded in accomplishing was a 
pathetically wrinkled brow of care and scared eyes. 
He had never been harshly treated by any of us, 

167 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

but he acted as though always ready to bolt. If 
there were twenty easy right methods of doing a 
thing and one difficult wrong method, Herbert would 
get the latter every time. No amount of experience 
could teach him the logic of our simplest ways. One 
evening he brought a tumbler of mixed water and 
condensed milk. Harold Hill glanced into the 
receptacle. 

"Stir it," he commanded briefly. 

Herbert Spencer obeyed. We talked about some- 
thing else. Some five or ten minutes later one 
of us noticed that Herbert was still stirring, and 
called attention to the fact. When the latter saw 
our eyes were on him he speeded up until the spoon 
fairly rattled in the tumbler. Then when he thought 
our attention had relaxed again, he relaxed also his 
efforts. The spoon travelled slower and slower in 
its dreamy circle. We amused ourselves for some 
time thus. Then we became so weak from laughter 
that we fell backward off our seats and some one 
gasped a command that Herbert cease. 

I am afraid, after a little, that we rather enjoyed 
mildly tormenting poor Herbert Spencer. He tried 
so hard, and looked so scared, and was so unbeliev- 
ably stupid! Almost always he had to pick his 
orders word by word from a vast amount of high- 
flown, unnecessary English. 

1 68 










TS 
(D 






RIDING THE PLAINS 

^^O Herbert Spencer," the command would run, 
''if you would condescend to bend your mighty 
intellect to the lowly subject of maji, and will snatch 
time from your profound cerebrations to assure its 
being moto sana, I would esteem it Infinite conde- 
scension on your part to lete pesi pesi^ 

And Herbert, listening to all this with a painful, 
strained intensity, would catch the six key words, 
and would falter forth a trembling '^N^dio bzvana.^^ 

Somewhere down deep within Herbert Spencer's 
make up, however, was a moral sense of duty. When 
we finally broke camp for keeps, on the great hill of 
Lucania, Herbert Spencer, relieved from his job, 
bolted like a shot. As far as we could see him he 
was running at top speed. If he had not possessed 
a sense of duty, he would have done this long ago. 

We camped always well up on some of the numer- 
ous hills; for, although anxious enough to find lions 
in the daytime, we had no use for them at all by 
night. This usually meant that the boys had to 
carry water some distance for the benefit of the dogs. 
We kept a canvas bathtub full from which they 
could drink at any time. This necessary privilege 
after a hard day nearly drove Captain Duirs crazy. 
It happened like this: 

We were riding along the slope of a sidehill, when 
in the ravine, a half mile away and below us, we 

169 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

saw something dark pop up in sight and then down 
again. We shouted to some of the savage Wakamba 
to go investigate. They closed in from all sides, 
their long spears poised to strike. At the last mo- 
ment out darted, not an animal, but a badly fright- 
ened old man armed with bow and arrow. He 
dashed, out under the upraised spears, clasped one 
of the men around the knees, and implored protec- 
tion. Our savages, their spears ready, glanced over 
their shoulders for instruction. They would have 
liked nothing better than to have spitted the poor 
old fellow. 

We galloped down as fast as possible to the rescue. 
With reluctance our spearmen drew back, releasing 
their prize. We picked up his scattered bows and 
arrows, restored them to him, and uttered many 
reassurances. He was so badly frightened that he 
could not stand for the trembling of his knees. 
Undoubtedly he thought that war had broken out 
and that he was the first of its unconscious victims. 
After calming him down, we told him what we were 
doing, and offered to shoot him meat if he cared to 
accompany us. He accepted the offer with joy. 
So pleased, and relieved, was he that he slipped 
about like a young and nimble goat. His hunting 
companion, who all this time had stood atop a hill 
at a safe distance, viewed these performances with 

170 



RIDING THE PLAINS 

concern. Our captive shouted loudly for him to come 
join us and share in the good fortune. Not he! 
he knew a trap when he saw one! Not a bit dis- 
turbed by the tales this man would probably carry 
back homcj our old fellow attached himself to us 
for three days! 

Near sundown, to make our promise goodj and 
also to give our own men a feast, I shot two harte- 
beeste near camp. -~^ 

The evening was beautiful. The Machakos Range, 
miles distant across the valley, was mantled with 
thick, soft clouds. From our elevation we could 
see over them, and catch the glow of moonlight on 
their upper surfaces. We were very tired, so we 
turned in early and settled ourselves for a good rest. 

Outside our tent the little "Injun fire" we had 
built for our own comfort died down to coals. A 
short distance away, however, was a huge bonfire 
around which all the savages were gathered. They 
squatted comfortably on their heels, roasting meat. 
Behind each man was planted his glittering long- 
bladed spear. The old man held the place of honour, 
as befitted his flirtation with death that morning. 
Everybody was absolutely happy — a good fire, 
plenty of meat, and strangers with whom to have 
a grand '^shauri.^^ The clatter of tongues was a 
babel, for almost every one talked at once and ex- 

171 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

citedly. Those who did not talk crooned weird, 
improvised chants in which they detailed the doings 
of the camp. 

We fell very quickly into the half doze of too 
great exhaustion. It never became more than a 
half doze. I suppose every one who reads this has 
had at some time the experience of dropping asleep 
to the accompaniment of some noise that ought 
soon to cease — a conversation in the next room., 
singing, the barking of a dog, the playing of music, 
or the like. The fact that it ought soon to cease 
permits the falling asleep. When after an interval 
the subconsciousness finds the row still going on, 
inexcusable and unabated, it arouses the victim to 
staring exasperation. That was our case here. 
Those natives should have turned in for sleep after 
a reasonable amount of powwow. They did nothing 
of the kind. On the contrary, I dragged reluctantly 
back to consciousness and the realization that they 
had quite happily settled down to make a night 
of it. I glanced across the little tent to where Cap- 
tain Duirs lay on his cot. He was staring straight 
upward, his eyes wide open. 

After a few seconds he slipped out softly and 
silently. Our little fire had sunk to embers. A 
dozen sticks radiated from the centre of coals. 
Each made a firebrand with one end cool to the 

172 



RIDING THE PLAINS 

grasp. Captain Duirs hurled one of these at the 
devoted and unconscious group. 

It whirled through the air and fell plunk in the 
other fire, scattering sparks and coals in all direc- 
tions. The second was under way before the first 
had landed. It hit a native with ditto ditto results 
flus astonished and grieved language. The rest 
followed in rapid-magazine fire. Every one hit its 
mark fair and square. The air was full of sparks 
exploding in all directions; the brush was full of 
Wakamba, their blankets flapping in the breeze 
of their going. The convention was adjourned. 
There fell the sucking vacuum of a great silence. 
Captain Duirs, breathing righteous wrath, flopped 
heavily and determinedly down on his cot. I caught 
a faint snicker from the tent next door. 

Captain Duirs sighed deeply, turned over, and 
prepared to sleep. Then one of the dogs uprose — I 
think it was Ben — stretched himself, yawned, ap- 
proached deliberately, and began to drink from the 
canvas bathtub just outside. He drank — lap lap 
lap lap lap — for a very long time. It seemed in- 
credible that any mere dog — or canvas bathtub — 
could hold so much water. The steady repetition 
of this sound long after it should logically have 
ceased was worse than the shenzi gathering around 
the fire. Each lap should have been the last, but 

173 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

it was not. The shenzi convention had been abated 
with firebrands, but the dog was strictly within 
his rights. The poor pups had had a long day with 
little water, and they could hardly be blamed for 
feeling a bit feverish now. At last Ben ceased. 
Next morning Captain Duirs claimed vehemently 
that he had drunk two hours forty-nine minutes and 
ten seconds. With a contented sigh Ben lay down. 
Then Ruby got up, shook herself, and yawned. A 
bright idea struck her. She too went over and took 
a drink. After that I, personally, went to sleep. But 
in the morning I found Captain Duirs staring-eyed 
and strung nearly to madness, trying feverishly to 
calculate how seven dogs drinking on an average of 
three hours apiece could have finished by morning. 
When Harold Hill innocently asked if he had slept 
well, the captain threw the remaining but now extinct 
firebrand at him. 

One of the safari boys, a big Baganda, had twisted 
his foot a little, and it had swelled up considerably. 
In the morning he came to have it attended to. 
The obvious treatment was very hot water and rest; 
but it would never do to tell him so. The recom- 
mendation of so simple a remedy would lose me his 
faith. So I gave him a little dab of tick ointment 
wrapped in a leaf. 

"This," said I, "is most wonderful medicine; but 

174 



RIDING THE PLAINS 

it is also most dangerous. If you were to rub it 
on your foot or your hand or any part of you, that 
part would drop off. But if you wash the part in 
very hot water continuously for a half hour, and 
then put on the medicine, it is good, and will cure 
you very soon." I am sure I do not know what 
they put in tick ointment; nor for the purpose did 
it greatly matter. 

That night, also, Herbert Spencer capped the 
climax of his absurdities. The chops he had cooked 
did not quite suffice for our hunger, so we instructed 
him to give us some of the leg. By this we meant 
steak of course. Herbert Spencer was gone so long 
a time that finally we went to see what possibly 
could be the matter. We found him trying des- 
perately to cook the whole leg in a frying pan ! 



175 



XXII 
THE SECOND LIONESS 

NOW our luck changed most abruptly. We 
had been riding since early morning over 
the wide plains. By and by we came to a wide, 
shallow, flood-water course, carpeted with lava, 
boulders and scant, scattered brush. Two of us 
took one side of it, and two the other. At this we 
were just within hailing distance. The boys wan- 
dered down the middle. 

Game was here very abundant, and in this broken 
country proved quite approachable. I saw one 
Grant's gazelle head, in especial, that greatly 
tempted me; but we were hunting lions, and other 
shooting was out of place. Also the prospects for 
lions had brightened, for we were continually seeing 
hyenas in packs of from three to six. They lay 
among the stones, but galloped away at our ap- 
proach. The game paid not the slightest attention 
to these huge, skulking brutes. One passed within i 
twenty feet of a hartebeeste; the latter hardly glanced 
at him. As the hyena is lazy as well as cowardly, 

176 



THE SECOND LIONESS 

and almost never does his killing, we inferred 
from the presence of so many a good supply of 
lion-killed meat. From a tributary ravine we 
flushed nineteen! 

Harold Hill was riding with me on the right bank. 
His quick eye caught a glimpse of something beyond 
our companions on the left side. A glance through 
the glasses showed me that it was a lion, just dis- 
appearing over the hill. At once we turned our 
horses to cross. It was a mean job. We were 
naturally in a tremendous hurry; and the footing 
among those boulders and rounded rocks was so 
vile that a very slow trot was the best we could 
accomplish. And that was only by standing in 
our stirrups, and holding up our horses' heads by 
main strength. We reached the skyline in time to 
see a herd of game stampeding away from a de- 
pression a half mile away. We fixed our eyes on 
that point, and a moment later saw the lion or 
lioness, as it turned out, leap a little gully and make 
out the other side. 

The footing down this slope too was appalling, 
consisting mainly of chunks of lava interspersed with 
smooth, rounded stones and sparse tufts of grass. 
In spite of the stones we managed a sort of stumbling 
gallop. Why we did not all go down in a heap, 
I do not know. At any rate we had no chance to 

177 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

watch our quarry, for we were forced to keep our 
eyes strictly to our way. When finally we emerged 
from that tumble of rocks, she had disappeared. 

Either she had galloped out over the plains, or 
she had doubled back to take cover in the ravine. 
In the latter case she would stand. Our first job, 
therefore, was to determine whether she had escaped 
over the open country. To this end we galloped 
our horses madly in four different directions, push- 
ing them to the utmost, swooping here and there 
in wide circles. That was an exhilarating ten minutes 
until we had surmounted every billow of the plain, 
spied in all directions, and assured ourselves beyond 
doubt that she had not run off. The horses fairly 
flew, spurning the hard sod, leaping the rock dikes, 
skipping nimbly around the pig holes, turning like 
cow-ponies under pressure of knee and rein. Finally 
we drew up, converged, and together jogged our 
sweating horses back to the ravine. There we 
learned from the boys that nothing more had been 
seen of our quarry. 

We dismounted, handed our mounts to their 
syces, and prepared to make afoot a clean sweep 
of the wide, shallow ravine. Here was where the 
dogs came in handy. We left a rear guard of two 
men, and slowly began our beat. 

The ravine could hardly be called a ravine; rather 

178 



THE SECOND LIONESS 

a shallow depression with banks not over a foot 
high, and with a varying width of from two to two- 
hundred feet. The grass grew very patchy, and not 
very high; in fact, it seemed hardly tall enough to 
conceal anything as large as a lioness. We men 
walked along the edge of this depression, while the 
dogs ranged back and forth in its bottom. 

We had gone thus a quarter mile when one of 
the rear guard came running up. 

^'BwanUj^^ said he, "we have seen the lioness. 
She is lying in a patch of grass. After you had 
passed, we saw her raise her head." 

It seemed impossible that she should have escaped 
both our eyes and the dogs' noses, but we returned. 
The man pointed out a thin growth of dried, yellow 
grass ten feet in diameter. Then it seemed even 
more incredible. Apparently we could look right 
through every foot of it. The man persisted so we 
advanced in battle array. At thirty yards Captain 
Duirs saw the black tips of her ears. We all looked 
hard, and at last made her out, lying very flat, 
her head between her paws. Even then she was 
shadowy and unreal, and, as I have said, the cover 
did not look thick enough to conceal a good-sized 
dog. 

As though she realized she had been sighted, she 
at this moment leaped to her feet. Instantly I 

179 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

put a .405 bullet into her shoulder. Any other lion 
I ever saw or heard of would in such circumstances 
and at such a distance immediately have charged 
home. She turned tail and ran away. I missed 
her as she ran, then knocked her down with a third 
shot. She got up again, but was immediately hit 
by Captain Duir's .350 Magnum and brought to a 
halt. The dogs, seeing her turn tail and hearing 
our shots, had scrambled madly after her. We 
dared not shoot again for fear of hitting one of them; 
so we dashed rapidly into the grass and out the 
other side. Before we could get to her, she had 
sent Ruby flying through the air, and had then fallen 
over dead. Ruby got off lucky with only a deep 
gash the length of her leg. 

This was the only instance I experienced of a 
wounded lion showing the white feather. She was, 
however, only about three quarters grown, and was 
suffering from diarrhoea. 



i8q 



XXIII 
THE BIG LION 

THE boys skinned her while we ate lunch. 
Then we started several of them back toward 
camp with the trophy, and ourselves cut across 
country to a small river known as the Stony Athi. 
There we dismounted from our horses, and sent 
them and the boys atop the ridge above the stream, 
while we ourselves explored afoot the side hill along 
the river. 

This was a totally different sort of country from 
that to which we had been accustomed. Imagine 
a very bouldery side hill planted thickly with knee- 
high blackberry vines and more sparsely with higher 
bushes. They were not really blackberry vines, 
of course, but their tripping, tangling, spiky quali- 
ties were the same. We had to force our way 
through these, or step from boulder to boulder. 
Only very rarely did we get a little rubbly clear 
space to walk in, and then for only ten or twenty 
feet. We tried in spaced intervals to cover the 
whole side hill. It was very hard work. The boys, 

i8i 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

with the horses, kept pace with us on the skyline 
atop, and two or three hundred yards away. 

We had proceeded in this fashion for about a 
mile, when suddenly and most unexpectedly, the 
biggest lion I ever saw leaped straight up from a 
bush twenty-five yards in front of me and with a 
tremendous roar vanished behind another bush. I 
had just time to throw up the .405 shotgun-fashion 
and let drive a snap shot. Clifford Hill, who was 
ten yards to my right, saw the fur fly, and we all 
heard the snarl as the bullet hit. Naturally we 
expected an instant charge, but, as things turned out, 
it was evident the lion had not seen us at all. He 
had leaped at the sight of our men and horses on 
the skyline, and when the bullet hit he must have 
ascribed it to them. At any rate, he began to 
circle through the tangled vines toward their direc- 
tion. 

From their elevation they could follow his move- 
ments. At once they set up howls of terror and 
appeals for help. Some began frantically to run 
back and forth. None of them tried to run away; 
there was nowhere to go! 

The only thing that saved them was the thick 
and spiky character of the cover. The lion, instead 
of charging straight and fast, was picking an easy 
way. 

182 



THE BIG LION 

We tore directly up hill as fast as we were able, 
leaping from rock to rock and thrusting recklessly 
through the tangle. About halfway up I jumped 
to the top of a high, conical rock, and thence by 
good luck caught sight of the lion's great yellow head 
advancing steadily about eighty yards away. I took 
as good a sight as I could and pulled trigger. The 
recoil knocked me clear off the boulder, but as I 
fell I saw his tail go up and knew that I had hit. 
At once Clifford Hill and I jumped up on the rock 
again, but the lion had moved out of sight. By 
this time, however, the sound of the shots and the 
smell of blood had caused the dogs to close in. They 
did not of course attempt to attack the lion nor 
even to get very near him, but their snarling and 
barking showed us the beast's whereabout. Even 
this much is bad judgment on their part, as a number 
of them have been killed at it. The thicket burst 
into an unholy row. 

We all manoeuvred rapidly for position. Again 
luck was with me, for again I saw his great head, 
the mane standing out all around it; and for the 
second time I planted a heavy bullet square in 
his chest. This stopped his advance. He lay 
down; his head was up and his eyes glared, as he 
uttered the most reverberating and magnificent roars 
and growls. The dogs leaped and barked around 

183 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

him. We came quite close, and I planted my 
fourth bullet in his shoulder. Even this was not 
enough. It took a fifth in the same place to finish 
him, and he died at last biting great chunks of 
earth. 

The howls from the hilltop ceased. All gathered 
to marvel at the lion's immense size. He measured 
three feet nine inches at the shoulder, and nine feet 
eleven inches between stakes, or ten feet eleven 
inches along contour. This is only five inches 
under record. We weighed him piecemeal, after 
a fashion, and put him between 550 and 600 
pounds. 

But these are only statistics and mean little unless 
a real attempt is made to visualize them. As a 
matter of fact his mere height — that of a medium- 
size zebra — was little unless accented by the 
impression of his tremendous power and quick- 
ness. 

We skinned him, and then rode four long hours 
to camp. We arrived at dark, and at once set to 
work preparing the trophy. A dozen of us squatted 
around the skin, working by lantern light. Memba 
Sasa had had nothing to eat since before dawn, but 
in his pride and delight he refused to touch a mouth- 
ful until the job was finished. Several times we 
urged him to stop long enough for even a bite. He 

184 



THE BIG LION 

steadily declined, and whetted his knife, his eyes 
gleaming with delight, his lips crooning one of his 
weird Momumwezi songs. At eleven o'clock the 
task was done. Then I presented Memba Sasa with 
a tall mug of coffee and lots of sugar. He considered 
this a great honour. 



185 



XXIV 
THE FIFTEEN LIONS 

TWO days before Captain Duirs and I were to 
return to Juja we approached, about eleven 
o'clock in the morning, a long, low, rugged range 
of hills called Lucania. They were not very 
high, but bold with cliffs, buttes, and broken 
rocky stretches. Here we were to make our final 
hunt. 

We led our safari up to the level of a boulder flat 
between two deep cafions that ran down from the 
hills. Here should be water, so we gathered under 
a lone little tree, and set about directing the simple 
disposition of our camp. Herbert Spencer brought 
us a cold lunch, and we sat down to rest and refresh- 
ment before tackling the range. 

Hardly had we taken the first mouthfuls, however, 
when Memba Sasa, gasping for breath, came tearing 
up the slope from the canon where he had descended 
for a drink. 

" Lions 1" he cried guardedly, "I went to drink, 
and I saw four lions. Two were lying under the 

i86 



THE FIFTEEN LIONS 

shade, but two others were playing like puppies, 
one on its back." 

While he was speaking a lioness wandered out 
from the canon and up the opposite slope. She 
was somewhere between six and nine hundred yards 
away, and looked very tiny; but the binoculars 
brought us up to her with a jump. Through them 
she proved to be a good one. She was not at all 
hurried, but paused from time to time to yawn and 
look about her. After a short interval another, 
also a lioness, followed in her footsteps. She too 
had climbed well clear when a third, probably a 
full-grown but still immature lion, came out, and 
after him the fourth. 

"You were right" we told Memba Sasa, "there 
are your four." 

But while we watched a fifth, again at the spaced 
interval, this time a maned lion, clambered leisurely 
up in the wake of his family; and after him another, 
and another, and yet another! We gasped, and sat 
down the better to steady our glasses with our 
knees. There seemed no end to lions. They came 
out of that apparently inexhaustible canon bed one 
at a time, and at the same regular intervals; perhaps 
twenty yards or so apart. It was almost as though 
they were being released singly. Finally we had 
fifteen in sight. 

187 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

It was a most magnificent spectacle, and we could 
enjoy it unhurried by the feeling that we were losing 
opportunities. At that range it would be silly to 
open fire. If we had descended to the canon in 
order to follow them out the other side, they would 
merely have trotted away. Our only chance was 
to wait until they had disappeared from sight, and 
then to attempt a wide circle in order to catch them 
from the flank. In the meantime we had merely 
to sit still. 

Therefore we stared through our glasses and en- 
joyed to the full this most unusual sight. There 
were four cubs about as big as setter dogs; four full- 
grown but immature youngsters; four lionesses, and 
three male lions. They kept their spaced, single 
file formation for two thirds the ascent of the hill — 
probably the nature of the ground forced them to 
it — and then gradually drew together. Near the 
top, but still below the summit, they entered a 
jumble of boulders and stopped. We could make 
out several of them lying down. One fine old yellow 
fellow stretched himself comfortably atop a flat 
rock, in the position of a bronze lion on a pedestal. 

We waited twenty minutes to make sure they were 
not going to move. Then, leaving all our men 
except the gunbearers under the tree, we slipped 
back until out of sight, and began to execute our 

i88 



THE FIFTEEN LIONS 

flank movement. The chances seemed good. The 
jumble of boulders was surrounded by open country, 
and it was improbable the lions could leave it without 
being seen. We had arranged with our men a 
system of signals. 

For two hours we walked very hard in order to 
circle out of sight, down wind, and to gain the other 
side of the ridge back of the lions. We purposed 
slipping over the ridge and attacking from above. 
Even this was but a slight advantage. The job was 
a stiff one, for we might expect certainly the majority 
to charge. 

Therefore when we finally deployed in skirmish 
order and bore down on that patch of brush and 
boulders, we were braced for the shock of battle. 
We found nothing. Our men, however, signalled 
that the lions had not left cover. After a little 
search, however, we discovered a very shallow de- 
pression running slantwise up the hill and back of 
the cover. So slight it was that even the glasses 
had failed to show it from below. The lions had 
in all probability known about us from the start, 
and were all the time engaged in withdrawing after 
their leisurely fashion. 

Of course we hunted for them; in fact we spent 
two days at it; but we never found trace of them 
again. The country was too hard for tracking. They 

189 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

had left Lucania. Probably by the time we had 
completed our two hours of flanking movement they 
were five miles away. The presence of cubs would 
account for this. In ordinary circumstances we 
should have had a wonderful and exciting fight. 
But the sight of those fifteen great beasts was one 
I shall never forget. 

After we had hunted Lucania thoroughly, we 
parted company with the Hills, and returned to Juja 
Farm. 



190 



PART V 
THE TSAVO RIVER 



XXV 

vol 

PART way up the narrow-gauge railroad from 
the coast is a station called Voi. On his way 
to the interior the traveller stops there for an evening 
meal. It is served in a high, wide stone room by 
white-robed Swahilis under command of a very 
efficient and quiet East Indian. The voyager steps 
out into the darkness to look across the way upon 
the outlines of two great rounded hills against an 
amethyst sky. That is all he ever sees of Voi, for 
on the down trip he passes through it about two 
o'clock in the morning. 

At that particularly trying hour F. and I de- 
scended and attempted, by the light of lanterns, to 
sort out twenty safari boys strange to us, and mis- 
cellaneous camp stores. We did not entirely succeed. 
Three men were carried on down the line; and the 
fly to our tent was never seen again » 

The train disappeared. Our boys, shivering, 
crept into corners. We took possession of the 
dak-bungalow maintained by the railroad for just 

193 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

such travellers as ourselves. It was simply a high 
stone room, with three iron beds, and a corner so 
cemented that one could pour pails of water over 
one's self without wetting down the whole place. The 
beds were supplied with mosquito canopies, and 
strong wire springs. Over these we spread our own 
bedding, and thankfully resumed our slumbers. 

The morning discovered to us Voi as the station, 
the district commissioner's house on a distant side 
hill, and a fairly extensive East Indian bazaar. 
The keepers of the latter traded with the natives. 
Immediately about the station grew some flat shady 
trees. All else was dense thorn scrub pressing close 
about the town. Over opposite were the tall, 
rounded mountains. 

Nevertheless, in spite of its appearance, Voi has 
its importance in the scheme of things. From it^ 
crossing the great Serengetti desert, runs the track 
to Kilimanjaro and that part of German East Africa. 
The Germans have as yet no railroad; so they must 
perforce patronize the British line this far, and then 
trek across. As the Kilimanjaro district is one rich 
in natives and trade, the track is well used. Most 
of the transport is done by donkeys — either in 
carts or under the pack saddle. As the distance from 
water to water is very great, the journey is a hard 
one. This fact, and the incidental consideration that 

194 



vol 

from fly and hardship the mortality in donkeys is very 
heavy, pushes the freight rates away up. And that 
fact accounts for the motor car, which has been my 
point of aim from the beginning of this paragraph. 

The motor car plies between Voi and the German 
line, at exorbitant rates. Our plan was to have 
it take us and some galvanized water tanks out into 
the middle of the desert and dump us down there. 
So after breakfast we hunted up the owner. 

He proved to be a very short, thick-set, blond 
German youth who justified Weber and Fields. In 
fact, he talked so exactly like those comedians that 
my task in visualizing him to you is somewhat 
lightened. If all, instead of merely a majority, of 
my readers had seen Weber and Fields, that task 
would vanish. 

We explained our plan, and asked him his 

price. 

"Sefen hundert and feefty rupees,"* said he un- 
compromisingly. 

He was abrupt, blunt, and insulting. As we 
wanted transportation very much — though not 
seven hundred and fifty rupees' worth — we per- 
sisted. He offered an imperturbable take-it-or- 
leave-it stolidity. The motor truck stood near. I 
said something technical about the engine; then 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

something more. He answered these remarks, 
though grudgingly. I suggested that it took a 
mighty good driver to motor through this rough 
country. He mentioned a particular hill. I pro- 
posed that we try the station restaurant for beer 
while he told me about it. He grunted, but headed 
for the station. 

For two hours we listened to the most blatant 
boasting. He was a great driver; he had driven for 
M., the American millionaire; for the Chinese Am- 
bassador to France; for Grand-duke Alexis; for the 
Kaiser himself! We learned how he had been the 
trusted familiar of these celebrities, how on various 
occasions — all detailed at length — he had been 
treated by them as an equal; and he told us sundry 
sly, slanderous, and disgusting anecdotes of these 
worthies, his forefinger laid one side his nose. When 
we finally got him worked up to the point of going 
to get some excessively bad photographs "I haf 
daken myself!" we began to have hopes. So we 
tentatively approached once more the subject of 
transportation. 

Then the basis of the trouble came out. One 
Davis, M. P. from England, had also dealt with 
our friend. Davis, as we reconstructed him, was of 
the blunt type, with probably very little feeling of 
democracy for those in subordinate positions, and 

196 



vol 

with most certainly a good deal of insular and racial 
prejudice. Evidently a rather vague bargain had 
been struck, and the motor had set forth. Then 
ensued financial wranglings and disputes as to terms. 
It ended by useless hauteur on Davis's part, and in- 
excusable but effective action by the German. For 
Davis found himself dumped down on the Seren- 
getti desert and left there. 

We heard all this in excruciatingly funny Weber- 
andfieldese, many times repeated. The German 
literally beat his breast and cried aloud against 
Davis. We unblushingly sacrificed a probably per- 
fectly worthy Davis to present need, and cried out 
against him too. 

"Am I like one dog?" demanded the German 
fervently. 

"Certainly not!^^ we cried with equal fervour. 
We both like dogs. 

Then followed wearisomely reiterated assurance 
that we, at least, knew how a gentleman should be 
treated, and more boasting of proud connection in 
the past. But the end of it was a bargain of reason- 
able dimensions for ourselves, our personal boys, 
and our loads. Under plea of starting our safari 
boys off we left him, and crept, with shattered nerves, 
around the corner of the dak-bungalow. There we 
lurked, busy at pretended affairs, until our friend 

197 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

swaggered away to the Hindu quarters, where, it 
seems, he kept his residence. 

About ten o'clock a small safari marched in afoot. 
It had travelled all of two nights across the Thirst, 
and was glad to get there. The single white man 
in charge had been three years alone among the 
natives near Kilimanjaro, and he was now out for 
a six months' vacation at home. Two natives in 
the uniform of Soudanese troops hovered near him 
very sorrowful. He splashed into the water of the 
dak-bungalow, and then introduced himself. We 
sat in teakwood easy chairs and talked all day. He 
was a most interesting, likable and cordial man, 
at any stage of the game. The game, by means 
of French vermouth — of all drinks! — progressed 
steadily. We could hardly blame him for celebrat- 
ing. By afternoon he wanted to give things away. 
So insistent was he that F. finally accepted an ebony 
walking staff, and I an ebony knife inset with ivory. 
If we had been the least bit unscrupulous, I am 
afraid the relatives at home would have missed 
their African souvenirs. He went out via freight 
car, all by himself, seated regally in a steamer chair 
between both wide-open side doors, one sorrowful 
native squatted on either side to see that he did not 
lurch out into the landscape. 



198 



XXVI 
THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX 

AT ten o'clock the following morning we started. 
On the high front seat, under an awning, sat 
the German, F., and I. The body of the truck was 
filled with safari loads, Memba Sasa, Simba, Mo- 
hamet, and F.'s boy, whose name I have forgotten. 
The arrangement on the front seat was due to a 
strike on the part of F. 

"Look here," said he to me, "you've got to sit 
next that rotter. We want him to bring us back 
some water from the other side; and I'd break his 
neck in ten minutes. You sit next him and give 
him your motor car patter." 

Therefore I took the middle seat and played 
chorus. The road was not a bad one, as natural 
mountain roads go; I have myself driven worse in 
California. Our man, however, liked to exaggerate 
all the difficulties, and while doing it to point to 
himself with pride as a perfect wonder. Between 
times he talked elementary mechanics. 

"The inflammation of the sparkling plugs" was 

199 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

one of his expressions that did much to compen- 
sate. 

The country mounted steadily through the densest 
thorn scrub I have ever seen. It was about fifteen 
feet high, and so thick that its penetration save by 
made tracks would have been an absolute impossi- 
bility. Our road ran like a lane between two spiky 
jungles. Bold bright mountains cropped up, singly 
and in short ranges, as far as the eye could see them. 

This sort of thing for twenty miles — more than 
a hard day's journey on safari. We made it in a 
little less than two hours; and the breeze of our 
going kept us reasonably cool under our awning. 
We began to appreciate the real value of our diplo- 
macy. 

At noon we came upon a series of unexpectedly 
green and clear small hills just under the frown of 
a sheer rock cliff. This oasis in the thorn was oc- 
cupied by a few scattered native huts and the usual 
squalid Indian dukka, or trading store. At this 
last our German friend stopped. From under the 
of seat he drew out a collapsible table and a basket 
of provisions. These we were invited to share. 
Diplomacy's highest triumph! 

After lunch we surmounted our first steep grade 
to the top of a ridge. This we found to be the 
beginning of a long elevated plateau sweeping gently 

200 



THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX 

downward to a distant heat mist which later ex- 
perience proved a concealment to snow-capped 
Kilimanjaro. The plateau also looked to be covered 
with scrub. As we penetrated it, however, we found 
the bushes were more or less scattered, while in the 
wide, shallow dips between the undulations were 
open, grassy meadows. There was no water. Iso- 
lated mountains or peaked hills showed here and 
there in the illimitable spaces, some of them fairly 
hull down, all of them toilsomely distant. This was 
the Serengetti itself. 

In this great extent of country somewhere were 
game herds. They were exceedingly migratory, and 
nobody knew very much about them. One of the 
species would be the rare and localized fringe-eared 
oryx. This beast was the principal zoological end 
of our expedition; though, of course, as always, we 
hoped for a chance lion. Geographically we wished 
to find the source of the Swanee River, and to follow 
that stream down to its joining with the Tsavo. 

About half-past one we passed our safari boys. 
We had intended to stop and replenish their canteens 
from our water drums; but they told us they had 
encountered a stray and astonishing shower, and did 
not need more. We left them trudging cheerfully 
across the desert. They had travelled most of the 
night before, would do the same in the night to 

20 1 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

come, and should reach our camping place about 
noon of the next day. 

We ourselves stopped about four o'clock. In a 
few hours we had come a hard three days' march. 
Over the side went our goods. We bade the German 
a very affectionate farewell; for he was still to fill 
our drums from one of the streams out of Kiliman- 
jaro and deliver them to us on his return trip next 
day. We then all turned to and made camp. The 
scrub desert here was exactly like the scrub desert 
for the last sixty miles. 

The next morning we were up and off before 
sunrise. In this job, time was a very large element 
of the contract. We must find our fringe-eared 
oryx before our water supply gave out. Therefore 
we had resolved not to lose a moment. 

The sunrise was most remarkable — lacework, 
flat clouds, with burnished copper-coloured clouds 
behind glowing through the lace. We admired it 
for some few moments. Then one of us happened 
to look higher. There, above the sky of the horizon, 
apparently suspended in midair halfway to the 
zenith, hung like delicate bubbles the double snow- 
clad peaks of Kilimanjaro. Between them and the 
earth we could apparently see clear sky. It was in 
reality, of course, the blue heat haze that rarely 
leaves these torrid plains. I have seen many moun- 

202 




''Kongoni" 




i 







THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX 

tains in all parts of the world, but none as fan- 
tastically insubstantial, as wonderfully lofty, as 
gracefully able to yield before clouds and storms 
and sunrise glows all the space in infinity they could 
possibly use, and yet to tower above them all serene 
in an upper space of its own. Nearly every morning 
of our journey to come we enjoyed this wonderful 
vision for an hour or so. Then the mists closed in. 
The rest of the day showed us a grayish sky along 
the western horizon, with apparently nothing behind 
it. 

In the meantime we were tramping steadily ahead 
over the desert, threading the thorn scrub, crossing 
the wide shallow grass-grown swales, spying about 
us for signs of game. At the end of three or four 
miles we came across some ostrich and four harte- 
beeste. This encouraged us to think we might find 
other game soon; for the hartebeeste is a gregarious 
animal. 

Suddenly we saw a medium-sized squat beast that 
none of us recognized, trundling along like a badger, 
sixty yards ahead. Any creature not easily identi- 
fied is a scientific possibility in Africa. Therefore 
we fired at once. One of the bullets hit his fore- 
paw. Immediately this astonishing small creature 
turned and charged us! If his size had equalled his 
ferocity, he would have been a formidable opponent. 

203 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

We had a lively few minutes. He rushed us again 
and again, uttering ferocious growls. We had to 
step high and lively to keep out of his way. Be- 
tween charges he sat down and tore savagely at his 
wounded paw. We wanted him as nearly perfect 
a specimen as possible, so tried to rap him over the 
head with a club. Owing to remarkably long teeth 
an<l claws, this was soon proved impracticable; so 
we shot him. He weighed about thirty pounds; and 
we subsequently learned that he was a honey 
badger, an animal very rarely captured. 

We left the boys to take the whole skin and skull 
of this beast, and strolled forward slowly. The 
brush ended abruptly in a wide valley. It had been 
burnt over, and the new grass was coming up green. 
We gave one look, and sank back into cover. 

The sparse game of the immediate vicinity had 
gathered to this fresh feed. A herd of hartebeeste 
and gazelle were grazing; and five giraffe adorned 
the skyline. But what interested us especially was 
a group of about fifty cob-built animals with the 
unmistakable rapier horns of the oryx. We recog- 
nized them as the rarity we desired. 

The conditions were most unfavourable. The 
cover nearest them gave a range of three hundred 
yards; and even this would bring them directly 
between us and the rising sun. There was no help 

204 



THE FRINGE-EARED ORYX 

for it, however. We made our way to the bushes 
nearest the herd; and I tried to align the blurs that 
represented my sights. At the shot, ineffective, 
they raced to the right across our front. We laid 
low. As they had seen nothing they wheeled and 
stopped after two hundred yards of flight. This 
shift had brought the light into better position. 
Once more I could define my sights. From the 
sitting position I took careful aim at the largest 
buck. He staggered twenty feet and fell dead. 
The distance was just 381 paces. This lucky shot 
was indeed fortunate, for we saw no more fringe- 
eared oryx. 



205 



XXVII 
ACROSS THE SERENGETTI 

WE arrived in camp about noon, almost ex- 
hausted with the fierce heat and a six hours' 
tramp, to find our German friend awaiting us. By 
an irony of fate the drums of water he had brought 
back with him were now unnecessary; we had our 
oryx. However, we wearily fed him lunch and 
listened to his prattle and finally sped him on his 
way, hoping never to see him again. 

About three o'clock our men came in. We doled 
out water rations, and told them to rest in prepara- 
tion for the morrow. 

Late that night we were awakened by a creaking and 
snorting and the flash of torches passing. We looked 
out to see a donkey transport toiling slowly along, 
travelling thus at night to avoid the terrific day 
heats. The two-wheeled carts with their wild and 
savage drivers looked very picturesque in the flick- 
ering lights. We envied them vaguely their defined 
route that permitted night travel, and sank to 
sleep. 

206 



ACROSS THE SERENGETTI 

In the morning, however, we found they had left 
with us new responsibilities in the shape of an elderly 
Somali, very sick, and down with the fever. This 
was indeed a responsibility. It was manifestly im- 
possible for us to remain there with him; we should 
all die of thirst. It was equally impossible to take 
him with us, for he was quite unfit to travel under 
the sun. Finally, as the best solution of a bad busi- 
ness, we left him five gallons of water, some food, 
and some quinine, together with the advice to rest 
until night, and then to follow his companions along 
the beaten track. What between illness and wild 
beasts his chances did not look very good, but it 
was the best we could do for him. This incident 
exemplifies well the cruelty of this singular people. 
They probably abandoned the old man because his 
groans annoyed them, or because one of them wanted 
to ride in his place on the donkey cart.* 

We struck off as early as possible through the 
thorn scrub on a compass bearing that we hoped 
would bring us to a reported swamp at the head of 
the Swanee River. The Swanee River is one of 
the sources of the Tsavo. Of course this was guess- 
work. We did not know certainly the location of 
the swamp, its distance from us, nor what lay be- 

*I have just heard that this old man survived, and has been singing our 
praises in Nairobi as the saviours of his life. 

207 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

tween us and it. However, we loaded all our trans- 
portable vessels with water, and set forth. 

The scrub was all alike; sometimes thinner, some- 
times thicker. We marched by compass until we 
had raised a conical hill above the horizon, and then 
we bore just to the left of that. The surface of the 
ground was cut by thousands of game tracks. They 
were all very old, however, made after a rain; and 
it was evident the game herds venture into this 
country only when it contains rainwater. After 
two hours, however, we did see one solitary harte- 
beeste, whom we greeted as an old friend in desola- 
tion. Shortly afterward we ran across one oribi, 
which I shot for our own table. 

At the end of two hours we sat down. The safari 
of twenty men was a very miscellaneous lot, con- 
sisting of the rag-tag and bobtail of the bazaars 
picked up in a hurry. They were soft and weak, 
and they straggled badly. The last weakling — 
prodded along by one of our two askaris — limped 
in only at the end of half an hour. Then we took 
a new start. 

The sun was by now up and hot. The work was 
difficult enough at best, but the weight of the tropics 
was now cast in the scale. Twice more within the 
next two hours we stopped to let every one catch 
up. Each time this required a longer interval. In 

208 



ACROSS THE SERENGETTI 

the thorn it was absolutely essential to keep in touch 
with every member of the party. A man once lost 
would likely remain so, for we could not afford to 
endanger all for the sake of one. 

Time wore on until noon. Had it not been for a 
thin film of haze that now overspread the sky, I 
think the sun would have proved too much for some 
of the men. Four or five straggled so very badly 
that we finally left them in charge of one of our 
two askaris, with instructions to follow on as fast 
as they could. In order to make this possible, we 
were at pains to leave a well-marked trail. 

After this fashion, slowly, and with growing 
anxiety for some of the men, we drew up on our 
landmark hill. There our difficulties increased; the 
thorn brush thickened. Only by a series of short 
zigzags and by taking advantage of every rhino 
trail going in our direction could we make our way 
through it at all; while to men carrying burdens on 
their heads the tangle aloft must have been fairly 
maddening. So slow did our progress necessarily 
become, and so difficult was it to keep in touch with 
everybody, that F. and I finally halted for consul- 
tation. It was decided that I should push on ahead 
with Memba Sasa to make certain that we were 
not on the wrong line, while F. and the askaris 
struggled with the safari. 

209 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

Therefore I took my compass bearing afresh, and 
plunged into the scrub. The sensation was of 
hitting solid ground after a long walk through sand. 
We seemed fairly to shoot ahead and out of sight. 
Whenever we came upon earth we marked it deeply 
with our heels; we broke twigs downward, and laid 
hastily snatched bunches of grass to help the trail 
we were leaving for the others to follow. This, in 
spite of our compass, was a very devious track. 
Beside the thorn bushes were patches of spiky aloe, 
coming into red flower, and the spears of sisal. 

After an hour's steady, swift walking the general 
trend of the country began to slope downward. 
This augured a watercourse between us and the 
hills around Kilimanjaro. There could be no doubt 
that we would cut it; the only question was whether 
it, like so many desert watercourses, might not prove 
empty. We pushed on the more rapidly. Then 
we caught a glimpse, through a chance opening, of 
the tops of trees below us. After another hour we 
suddenly burst from the scrub to a strip of green 
grass beyond which were the great trees, the palms, 
and the festooned vines of a watercourse. Two bush 
bucks plunged into the thicket as we approached; 
and fifteen or twenty mongooses sat up as straight 
and stiff as so many picket pins the better to see us. 

For a moment my heart sank. The low under- 

210 



ACROSS THE SERENGETTI 

growth beneath the trees apparently swept unbroken 
from where we stood to the low bank opposite. It 
was exactly like the shallow damp but waterless 
ravines at home, filled with blackberry vines. We 
pushed forward, however, and found ourselves look- 
ing down on a smooth, swift-flowing stream. 

It was not over six feet wide, grown close with 
vines and grasses, but so very deep and swift and 
quiet that an extraordinary volume of water passed, 
as through an artificial aqueduct. Furthermore, 
unlike most African streams, it was crystal clear. 
We plunged our faces and wrists in it, and took long, 
thankful draughts. It was all most grateful after 
the scorching desert. The fresh trees meeting in 
canopy overhead were full of monkeys and bright 
birds; festooned vines swung their great ropes here 
and there; long heavy grass carpeted underfoot. 

After we had rested a few minutes we filled our 
empty canteens, and prepared to start back for our 
companions. But while I stood there, Memba Sasa, 
good faithful Memba Sasa, seized both canteens 
and darted away. 

"Lie down!" he shouted back at me, "I will go 
back." 

Without protest — which would have been futile 
anyway — I sank down on the grass. I was very 
tired. A little breeze followed the watercourse; the 

211 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

grass was soft; I would have given anything for a 
nap. But in wild Africa a nap is not healthy; so 
I drowsily watched the mongooses that had again 
come out of seclusion, and the monkeys, and the 
birds. At the end of a long time, and close to sun- 
down, I heard voices. A moment later F., Memba 
Sasa, and about three quarters of the men came in. 
We all, white and black, set to work to make camp. 
Then we built smudges and fired guns in the faint 
hope of guiding in the stragglers. As a matter of 
fact we had not the slightest faith in these expedients. 
Unless the men were hopelessly lost they should be 
able to follow our trail. They might be almost 
anywhere out in that awful scrub. The only course 
open to them would be to climb thorn trees for the 
night. Next day we would organize a formal search 
for them. 

In the meantime, almost dead from exhaustion, 
we sprawled about everywhere. The men, too 
dispirited even to start their own campfires, sat 
around resting as do boxers between rounds. Then 
to us came Memba Sasa, who had already that day 
made a double journey, and who should have been 
the most tired of all. 

"Bwana," said he, "if you will lend me Winchi,* 
and a lantern, I will bring in the men." 

*His name for the .405 Winchester. 

213 



ACROSS THE SERENGETTI 

We lent him his requirements, and he departed. 
Hours later he returned, carefully leaned "Winchi" 
in the corner of the tent, deposited the lantern, and 
stood erect at attention. 

^'Well, Memba Sasa?" I inquired. 

"The men are here." 

"They were far?" 

"Very far." 

"F^ma, Memba Sasa, assanti sana.^^* 

That was his sole — and sufficient reward. 

*Very good, Memba Sasa, thanks very much. 



213 



XXVIII 
DOWN THE RIVER 

RELIEVED now of all anxiety as to water we 
had merely to make our way downstream. 
First, however, there remained the interesting task 
of determining its source. 

Accordingly, next day we and our gunbearers left 
the boys to a well-earned rest, and set out upstream. 
At first we followed the edge of the river jungle, 
tramping over hard hot earth, winding in and out 
growths of thorn scrub and brilliant aloes. We saw 
a herd of impallas gliding like phantoms, and as we 
stood in need of meat, I shot at one of them but 
missed. The air was very hot and moist. At five 
o'clock in the morning the thermometer had stood 
at 78; and by noon it had mounted to 106. In 
addition the atmosphere was filled with the humidity 
that later in the day was to break in extraordinary 
deluges. We moved slowly, but even then our 
garments were literally dripping wet. 

At the end of three miles the stream bed widened. 
We came upon beautiful, spacious, open lawns of 

214 



DOWN THE RIVER 

from eighty to one hundred acres apiece, separated 
from each other by narrow strips of tall forest trees. 
The grass was high, and waved in the breeze like 
planted grain; the boundary trees resembled artificial 
windbreaks of eucalyptus or Normandy poplar. 
One might expect a white ranch house beyond some 
low clump of trees, and chicken runs, and corrals. 

Along these apparent boundaries of forest trees 
our stream divided, and divided again; so that we 
were actually looking upon what we had come to 
seek: the source of the Swanee branch of the Tsavo 
River. In these peaceful, protected meadows was 
it cradled. From them it sprang full size out into 
the African wilderness. 

A fine impalla buck grazed in one of these fields. 
I crept as near him as I could behind one of the 
windbreak rows of trees. It was not very near, 
and for the second time I missed. Thereupon we 
decided two things: that we were not really meat 
hungry, and that yesterday's hard work was not 
conducive to to-day's good shooting. 

Having thus accomplished the second object of 
our expedition, we returned to camp. From that 
time begins a regular sequence of events on which 
I look back with the keenest of pleasure. The two 
constant factors were the river and the great dry 
country on either side. Day after day we followed 

215 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

down the one, and we made brief excursions out 
into the other. Each night we camped near the 
sound of the swift-running, water; where the winds 
rustled in the palms; the acacias made lacework 
across the skies; and the jungle crouched in velvet 
blackness close to earth, like a beast. 

Our life in its routine was regular; in its details 
bizarre and full of the unexpected. Every morning 
we arose an hour before day, and ate by lantern 
light and the gleam of fires. At the first gray we 
were afoot and on the march. F. and I, with our 
gunbearers, then pushed ahead down the river, 
leaving the men to come along as fast or as slowly 
as they pleased. After about six hours or so of 
marching, we picked out a good camp site, and 
lay down to await the safari. By two o'clock 
camp was made. Also it was very hot. After 
a light lunch we stripped to the skin, lay on 
our cots underneath the mosquito canopies, and 
tried to doze or read. The heat at this time of 
day was blighting. About four o'clock, if we hap- 
pened to be inspired by energy, one or the other of 
us strolled out at right angles to the stream to see 
what we could see. The evening was tepid and 
beautiful. Bathed and pajama-clad we lolled in 
our canvas chairs, smoking, chatting, or listening 
to the innumerable voices of the night. 

216 








S 



DOWN THE RIVER 

Such was the simple and almost invariable routine 
of our days. But enriching it, varying it, disguising 
it even — as rain-squalls, sunshine, cloud shadow, and 
unexpected winds modify the landscape so well 
known from a study window — were the incredible 
incidents and petty adventure of African travel. 

The topography of the river itself might be divided 
very roughly into three: the headwater country down 
to its junction with the Tsavo, the palm-elephant- 
grass stretch, and the gorge and hill district just 
before it crosses the railroad. 

The headwater country is most beautiful. The 
stream is not over ten feet wide, but very deep, 
swift, and clear. It flows between defined banks, and 
IS set in a narrow strip of jungle. In places the bed 
widens out to a carpet of the greenest green grass 
sown with flowers; at other places it offers either 
mysterious thickets, spacious cathedrals, or snug 
bowers. Immediately beyond the edge of this river 
jungle begins the thorn scrub, more or less dense. 
Distant single mountains or buttes serve as land- 
marks in a brush-grown, gently rising, strongly 
rolling country Occasional alluvial flats draw back 
to low cliflFs not over twenty feet high. 

After the junction of the Tsavo palms of various 
sorts replace to a large extent the forest trees. 
Naturally also the stream widens and flows more 

217 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

slowly. Outside the palms grow tall elephant grass 
and bush. Our marching had generally to be done 
in the narrow, neutral space between these two 
growths. It was pleasant enough, with the river 
snatching at the trailing branches, and the birds and 
animals rustling away. Beyond the elephant-grass 
flats low ridges ran down to the river, varying in 
width, but carrying always with them the dense 
thorn. Between them ran recesses, sometimes three 
or four hundred acres in extent, high with elephant 
grass or little trees like popples. So much for the 
immediate prospect on our right as we marched. 
Across the river to our left were huge riven moun- 
tains, with great cliffs and canons. As we followed 
necessarily every twist and turn of the river, some- 
times these mountains were directly ahead of us, 
then magically behind, so that we thought we had 
passed them by. But the next hour threw them 
again across our trail. The Ideal path would, of 
course, have cut across all the bends and ridges; but 
the thorn of the ridges, and the elephant grass of 
the flats forbade it. So we marched ten miles to 
gain four. 

After days of struggle and deception we passed 
those mountains. Then we entered a new type of 
country where the Tsavo ran in canons between 
hills. The high cliffs often towered far above us; 

218 



DOWN THE RIVER 

we had to pick our way along narrow river ledges; 
again the river ran like a trout stream over riffles 
and rapids, while we sauntered along cleared banks 
beneath the trees. Had we not been making a 
forced march under terrific heat at just that time, 
this last phase of the river might have been the 
pleasantest of all. 

Throughout the whole course of our journey the 
rhinoceros was the most abundant of the larger ani- 
mals. The indications of old tracks proved that at 
some time of the year, or under some different con- 
ditions, great herds of the more gregarious plains 
antelope and zebra visited the river, but at the time 
of our visit they lacked. Rhinoceros, however, in 
incredible numbers came regularly to water. Para- 
doxically, we saw very few of them; and enjoyed 
comparative immunity from their charges. This 
was due to the fact that their habits and ours swung 
in different orbits. The rhinoceros, after drinking 
took to the hot, dry thorn scrub in the low hills; and 
as he drank at night, we rarely encountered him in 
the river bottoms where we were marching. This 
was very lucky, for the cover was so dense that a 
meeting must necessarily be at close quarters. 
Indeed these large and truculent beasts were rather 
a help than a hindrance, for we often made use of 
their wide, clear paths to penetrate some particularly 

219 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

distressing jungle. However, we had several small 
adventures with them; just enough to keep us alert in 
rounding corners, or approaching bushes — and nine 
tenths of our travel was bushes and corners. The big 
flat footsteps, absolutely fresh in the dust, padded 
methodically ahead of us down the only way until it 
seemed that we could not fail to plump upon their 
maker around the next bend. We crept forward foot 
by foot, every sense alert, finger on trigger. Then 
after a time the spoor turned off to the right, toward 
the hills. We straightened our backs and breathed 
a sigh of relief. This happened over and over again. 

At certain times of year also elephants frequent the 
banks of the Tsavo in considerable numbers. We saw 
many old signs; and once came upon the fresh path 
of a small herd. The great beasts had passed by that 
very morning. We gazed with considerable awe on 
limbs snatched bodily from trees; on flat-topped aca- 
cias a foot in diameter pulled up by the roots and 
stood upside down; on tree trunks twisted like ropes. 

Of the game by far the most abundant were the 
beautiful red impalla. We caught glimpses of their 
graceful bodies gliding in and out of sight through 
the bushes; or came upon them standing in small 
openings, their delicate ears pointed to us. They 
and the tiny dik-dik furnished our table; and an 
occasional waterbuck satisfied the men. One day 

220 



DOWN THE RIVER 

we came on one of the latter beasts sound asleep 
in a tiny open space. He was lying down, and his 
nose rested against the earth, just like a very old 
family horse in a paddock. 

Beside these common species were bush buck, 
warthog, lesser kudu, giraffe, and leopard. The bush 
buck we jumped occasionally quite near at hand. They 
ducked their heads low and rushed tearingly to the 
next cover. The leopard we heard sighing every 
night, and saw their pad marks next day; but only 
twice did we catch glimpses of them. One morning we 
came upon the fresh killed carcass of a female lesser 
kudu from which, evidently, we had driven the slayer. 

These few species practically completed the game 
list. They were sufficient for our needs; and the 
lesser kudu was a prize much desired for our collec- 
tion. But by far the most interesting to me were 
the smaller animals, the birds, and the strange, in- 
numerable insects. 

We saw no natives in the whole course of our 
journey. 

The valley of the river harboured many monkeys. 
They seemed to be of two species, blue and brown, 
but were equally noisy and amusing. They retired 
ahead of our advance with many remarks, or slipped 
past us to the rear without any comments whatever. 
When we made camp they retired with indignant 

221 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

protests, and when we had quite settled down, they 
returned as near as they dared. 

One very hot afternoon I lay on my canvas cot 
in the open staring straight upward into the over- 
arching greenery of the trees. This is a very pleasant 
thing to do. The beautiful upspreading, outreach- 
ing of the tree branches and twigs intrigue the eye; 
the leaves make fascinating hypnotically waving 
patterns against a very blue sky; and in the chambers 
and galleries of the upper world the birds and in- 
sects carry on varied businesses of their own. After 
a time the corner of my eye caught a quick move- 
ment far to the left and in a shadow. At once I 
turned my attention that way. After minute 
scrutiny I at length made out a monkey. Evidently 
considering himself quite unobserved, he was slowly 
and with great care stalking our camp. Inch by 
inch he moved, taking skilful advantage of every bit 
of cover, flattening himself along the limbs, hunching 
himself up behind bunches of leaves, until he had 
gained a big limb directly overhead. There he 
stretched flat, staring down at the scene that had 
so strongly aroused his curiosity. I lay there for 
over two hours reading and dozing. My friend 
aloft never stirred. When dusk fell he was still 
there. Some time after dark he must have regained 
his band, for in the morning the limb was vacant. 

222 



DOWN THE RIVER 

Now comes the part of this story that really needs 
a witness, not to veracity perhaps, but to accuracy 
of observations. Fortunately I have F. About 
noon next day the monkey returned to his point of 
observation. He used the same precautions as to 
concealment; he followed his route of the day before; 
he proceeded directly to his old conning tower on 
the big limb. It did not take him quite so long to 
get there, for he had already scouted out the trail. 
And close at his heels followed two other monkeys! 
They crawled where he crawled; they scrooched 
where he scrooched; they hid where he hid; they flat- 
tened themselves out by him on the big limb and all 
three of them passed the afternoon gazing down on 
the strange and fascinating things below. Whether 
these newcomers were part of the first one's family 
out for a treat, or whether they were Cook's Tourists 
of the Jungle in charge of my friend's competence 
as a guide, I do not know. 

Farther down the river F. and I stopped for some 
time to watch the crossing of forty-odd of the little 
blue monkeys. The whole band clambered to near 
the top of a tall tree growing by the water's edge. 
There, one by one, they ran out on a straight over- 
hanging limb and cast themselves into space. On 
the opposite bank of the river, and leaning well 
out, grew a small springy bush. Each monkey 

223 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

landed smash in the middle of this; clasped it with 
all four hands; swayed alarmingly; recovered and 
scampered ashore. It was rather a nice problem 
in ballistics, this; for the mistake in calculation of 
a foot in distance or a pound in push would land 
Mr. Monkey in the water. And the joke of it was 
that directly beneath that bush lay two hungry- 
looking crocodiles! As each tiny body hurtled 
through the air I'll swear a look of hope came into 
the eyes of those crocs. We watched until the last 
had made his leap. There were no mistakes. The 
joke was on the crocodiles. 

We encountered quite a number of dog-faced 
baboons. These big apes always retreated very 
slowly and noisily. Scouts in the rear guard were 
continually ascending small trees or bushes for a 
better look at us, then leaping down to make dis- 
paraging remarks. One lot seemed to show such 
variation in colour from the usual that we shot 
one. The distance was about two hundred and 
fifty yards. Immediately the whole band — a hun- 
dred or so strong — dropped on all fours and started 
in our direction. This was rather terrifying. How- 
ever, as we stood firm, they slowly came to a halt 
at about seventy yards, barked and chattered for 
a moment, then hopped away to right and left. 



224 



XXIX 
THE LESSER KUDU 

ABOUT eight o'clock, the evening of our first 
day on the Swanee, the heat broke in a trop- 
ical downpour. We heard it coming from a long 
distance, like the roar of a great wind. The velvet 
blackness, star hung, was troubled by an invisible, 
blurring mist, evidenced only through a subtle 
effect on the subconsciousness. Every leaf above 
us, in the circle of our firelight, depended absolutely 
motionless from its stem. The insects had ceased 
their shrilling; the night birds their chirping; the 
animals, great and small, their callings or their 
stealthy rustling to and fro. Of the world of sound 
there remained only the crackling of our fires, the 
tiny singing of the blood in our ears, and that far- 
off, portentous roar. Our simple dispositions were 
made. Trenches had been dug around the tents; 
the pegs had been driven well home; our stores had 
been put in shelter. We waited silently, puffing 
away at our pipes. 

The roaring increased in volume. Beneath it we 

225 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

began to hear the long, rolling crash of thunder. 
Overhead the stars, already dimmed, were suddenly 
blotted from existence. Then came the rain; in a 
literal deluge; as though the god of floods had turned 
over an entire reservoir with one twist of his mighty 
hand. Our fire went out instantly; the whole world 
went out with it. We lay on our canvas cots unable 
to see a foot beyond our tent opening; unable to 
hear anything but the insistent, terrible drumming 
over our heads; unable to think of anything through 
the tumult of waters. As a man's body might strug- 
gle from behind a waterfall through the torrents, 
so our imaginations, half-drowned, managed dimly 
to picture forth little bits — the men huddled close 
in their tiny tents, their cowled blankets over their 
heads. All the rest of the universe had gone. 

After a time the insistent beat and rush of waters 
began to wear through our patience. We willed 
that this wracking tumult should cease; we willed 
it with all the force that was in us. Then, as this 
proved vain, we too humped our spiritual backs, 
cowled our souls with patience, and waited dumbly 
for the force of the storm to spend itself. Our 
faculties were quite as effectually drowned out by 
the unceasing roar and crash of the waters as our 
bodily comfort would have been had we lacked the 
protection of our tent. 

226 



THE LESSER KUDU 

Abruptly the storm passed. It did not die away 
slowly in the diminuendo of ordinary storms. It 
ceased as though the reservoir had been tipped back 
again. The rapid drip drip drip of waters now made 
the whole of sound; all the rest of the world lay 
breathless. Then, inside our tent, a cricket struck 
up bravely. 

This homely, cheerful little sound roused us. We 
went forth to count damages and to put our house 
in order. The men hunted out dry wood and made 
another fire; the creatures of the jungle and the 
stars above them ventured forth. 

Next morning we marched into a world swept 
clean. The ground was as smooth as though a 
new broom had gone over it. Every track now was 
fresh, and meant an animal near at hand. The 
bushes and grasses were hung with jewels. Merry 
little showers shook down from trees sharing a 
joke with some tiny wind. White steam rose from 
a moist, fertile-looking soil. The smell of greenhouses 
was in the air. Looking back we were stricken 
motionless by the sight of Kilimanjaro, its twin 
peaks suspended against a clean blue sky, fresh 
snow mantling its shoulders. 

This day, so cheeringly opened, was destined to 
fulfil its promise. In the dense scrub dwells a 
shy and rare animal called the lesser kudu, speci- 

227 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

mens of which we greatly desired. The beast keeps 
to the thickest and driest cover, where it is impos- 
sible to see fifty yards ahead, but where the slightest 
movement breaks one of the numberless dry inter- 
lacements of which the place seems made. To 
move really quietly one could not cover over a half 
mile in an hour. As the countryside extends a 
thousand square miles or more, and the lesser kudu 
is rare, it can be seen that hunting them might have 
to be a slow and painful process. We had twice 
seen their peculiar tracks. 

On this morning, however, we caught a glimpse 
of the beast itself. A flash of gray, with an impres- 
sion of the characteristic harnesslike stripes — that 
was all. The trail, in the soft ground, was of course 
very plain. I left the others, and followed it into 
the brush. As usual the thorn scrub was so thick 
that I had to stoop and twist to get through it at 
all, and so brittle that the least false move made a 
crackling like a fire. The rain of the night before 
had, however, softened the debris lying on the 
ground. I moved forward as quickly as I could, 
half suffocated in the steaming heat of the dense 
thicket. After three or four hundred yards the 
beast fell into a walk, so I immediately halted. I 
reasoned that after a few steps at this gait he would 
look back to see whether or not he was followed. 

228 



THE LESSER KUDU 

If his scouting showed him nothing, he might throw 
off suspicion. After ten minutes I crept forward 
again. The spoor showed my surmises to be correct, 
for I came to where the animal had turned, behind 
a small bush, and had stood for a few minutes. 
Taking up the tracks from this point I was delighted 
to find that the kudu had forgotten its fear, and was 
browsing. At the end of five minutes more of very 
careful work, I was fortunate enough to see it, 
feeding from the top of a small bush thirty-five 
yards away. The raking shot from the Springfield 
dropped it in its tracks. 

It proved to be a doe, a great prize of course, but 
not to be compared with the male. We skinned 
her carefully, and moved on, delighted to have the 
species. 

Our luck was not over, however. At the end of 
six hours we picked our camp in a pretty grove by 
the swift-running stream. There we sat down to 
await the safari. The treetops were full of both 
the brown and blue monkeys, baboons barked at 
us from a distance, the air was musical with many 
sweet birds. Big thunder clouds were gathering 
around the horizon. 

The safari came in. Mohamet immediately sought 
us out to report, in great excitement, that he had 
seen five kudu across the stream. He claimed to 

229 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

have watched them even after the safari had passed; 
and that they had not been alarmed. The chance 
was slight that those kudu could be found, but still 
it was a chance. Accordingly we rather reluctantly 
gave up our plans for a loaf and a nap. Mohamet 
said the place was an hour back; we had had six 
hours' march already. However, about two o'clock 
we set out. Before we had arrived quite at the 
spot we caught a glimpse of the five kudu as they 
dashed across a tiny opening ahead of us. They 
had moved downstream and crossed the river. 

It seemed rather hopeless to follow them into that 
thick country once they had been alarmed, but the 
prize was great. Therefore Memba Sasa and I took 
up the trail. We crept forward a mile, very quiet, 
very tense — very sweaty. Then simultaneously 
through a chance opening and a long distance away 
we caught a patch of gray with a single transverse 
white stripe. There was no chance to ascertain the 
sex of the beast, nor what part of its anatomy was 
thus exposed. I took a bull's-eye chance on that 
patch of gray; had the luck to hit it in the middle. 
The animal went down. Memba Sasa leaped for- 
ward like a madman; I could not begin to keep pace 
with him. When I had struggled through the 
thorn, I found him dancing with delight. 

'' Monuome^hwana! (Buck, master)!" he cried as 

230 



THE LESSER KUDU 

soon as he saw me, and made a spiral gesture in 
imitation of the male's beautiful corkscrew horns. 

While the men prepared the trophy, F. and I 
followed on after the other four to see what they 
would do, and speedily came to the conclusion that 
we were lucky to land two of the wily beasts. The 
four ran compactly together and in a wide curve 
for several hundred yards. Then two faced directly 
back, while the other two, one on either side, made 
a short detour out and back to guard the flanks. 

We did not get back to camp until after dark. 
A tremendous pair of electric storms were volleying 
and roaring at each other across the space of night; 
leopards were crying; a pack of wild dogs were 
barking vociferously. The camp, as we approached 
it, was a globe of light in a bower of darkness. The 
fire, shining and flickering on the under sides of the 
leaves, lent them a strangely unreal stagelike ap- 
pearance; the porters, their half-naked bodies and 
red blankets catching the blaze, roasted huge chunks 
of meat over little fires. 

We ate a belated supper in comfort, peace, and 
satisfaction. Then the storms joined forces and fell 
upon us. 



231 



XXX 

ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 

WE journeyed slowly on down the stream. 
Interesting things happened to us. The 
impressions of that journey are of two sorts; the 
little isolated details and the general background of 
our day's routine, with the gray dawn, the great 
heats of the day, the blessed evening and its fireflies; 
the thundering of heaven's artillery, and the down- 
pour of torrents; the hot, high, crackling thorn scrub 
into which we made excursions; the swift-flowing 
river with its palms and jungles; outleaning palms 
trailing their fronds just within the snatch of the 
flood-waters; wide flats in the embrace of the river 
bends, or extending into the low hills, grown thick 
with lush green and threaded with rhinoceros paths; 
the huge sheer cliff mountains over the way; distant 
single hills far down. The mild discomfort of the 
start before daylight clearly proving the thorns 
and stumbling blocks; the buoyant cheerfulness of 
the first part of the day, with the grouse rocketing 
straight up out of the elephant grass, the birds 

232 



ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 

singing everywhere, and the beasts of the jungle 
still a-graze at the edges; the growing weight of the 
sun, as though a great pressing hand were laid upon 
the shoulders; the suffocating, gasping heat of after- 
noon, and the gathering piling black and white 
clouds; the cool evening in pajamas with the fireflies 
flickering among the bushes, the river singing, and 
little breezes wandering like pattering raindrops in 
the dry palm leaves — all these, by repetition of main 
elements, blend in my memory to form a single image. 
To be sure each day the rock pinnacles over the way 
changed slightly their compass bearings, and little 
variations of contour lent variety to the procession 
of days. But in essential they were of one kin. 

But here and there certain individual scenes and 
incidents stand out clearly and alone. Without 
reference to my notebook I could not tell you their 
chronological order, nor the days of their happening. 
They occurred, without correllation. 

Thus one afternoon at the loafing hour, when F. 
was sound asleep under his mosquito bar, and I 
in my canvas chair was trying to catch the breeze 
from an approaching deluge, to me came a total 
stranger in a large turban. He was without arms 
or baggage of any sort, an alien in a strange and 
savage country. 

233 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

^^Jambo, hwana rrCkuhwa! (Greeting, great mas- 
ter!)" said he. 

'' Jamho,^^ said I, as though his existence were 
not in the least surprising, and went on reading. 
This showed him that I was Indeed a great master. 

After a suitable interval, I looked up. 

^'Wataka neenee? (What do you want.^)" I de- 
manded. 

^'Nataka sema qua heri (I want to say good- 
bye)," said this astonishing individual. 

I had, until that moment, been quite unaware of 
his existence. As he had therefore not yet said 
"How do you do," I failed to fathom his reasons 
for wanting to say "good-bye." However, far be it 
from me to deny any one innocent pleasure, so I 
gravely bade him good-bye, and he disappeared into 
the howling wilderness whence he had come. 

One afternoon we came upon two lemurs seated 
gravely side by side on a horizontal limb ten feet up 
a thorn tree. They contemplated us with the preter- 
natural gravity of very young children, and without 
the slightest sign of fear. We coveted them as 
pets for Billy, but soon discovered that their apparent 
tameness was grounded on good solid common sense. 

The thorns of that thorn tree ! We left them 

sitting upright, side by side. 

234 



ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 

A little farther on, and up a dry earthy side hill, 
a medium-sized beast leaped from an eroded place 
fairly under my feet and made off with a singularly 
familiar kiyi. It was a strange-looking animal, ap- 
parently brick red in colour. When I had collected 
myself I saw it was a wild dog. It had been asleep 
in a warm hollow of red clay, and had not awakened 
until I was fairly upon it. We had heard these 
beasts nearly every night, but this was the first we 
had seen. Some days later we came upon the 
entire pack drinking at the river. They leaped 
suddenly across our front eighty yards away, their 
heads all turned toward us truculently, barking at 
us like so many watch dogs. They made off, but 
not as though particularly alarmed. 

One afternoon I had wounded a good warthog 
across the river; and had gone downstream to find 
a dry way over. F., more enthusiastic, had plunged 
in, and promptly attacked the warthog. He was 
armed with the English service revolver shooting 
the .455 Ely cartridge. It is a very short stubby 
bit of ammunition. I had often cast doubt on its 
driving power as compared to the .45 Colt, for 
example. F., as a loyal Englishman, had, of course, 
defended his army's weapon. When I reached the 
centre of disturbance I found that F. had emptied 

23s 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

his revolver three times — eighteen shots — into the 
head and forequarters of that warthog without 
much effect. Incidentally the warthog had given 
him a good lively time, charging again and again. 
The weapon has not nearly the shocking power of 
even our .38 service — a cartridge determined as too 
light for serious business. 

One afternoon I gave my shotgun to one of the 
porters to carry afield, remarking facetiously to all 
and sundry that he looked like a gunbearer. After 
twenty minutes we ran across a rhinoceros. I spent 
some time trying to manoeuvre into position for a 
photograph of the beast. However, the attempt 
failed. We managed to dodge his rush. Then, 
after the excitement had died, we discovered the 
porter and the shotgun up a tree. He descended 
rather shamefaced. Nobody said anything about 
it. A half hour later we came upon another rhino- 
ceros. The beast was visible at some distance, 
and downhill. Nevertheless the porter moved a 
little nearer a tree. This was too much for Memba 
Sasa. All the rest of the afternoon he "joshed" 
that porter in much the same terms we would have 
employed in the same circumstances. 

"That place ahead," said he, "looks like a good place 
for rhinoceros. Perhaps you'd better climb a tree." 

236 



ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 

"There is a dik-dik; a bush is big enough to climb 
for him." 

"Are you afraid of jackals, too?" 

The fireflies were our regular evening companions. 
We caught one or two of them for the pleasure of 
watching them alternately igniting and extinguishing 
their little lamps. Even when we put them in a 
bottle they still kept up their performance bravely. 

But beside them we had an immense variety of 
evening visitors. Beetles of the most inconceivable 
shapes and colours, all sorts of moths, and number- 
less strange things — leaf insects, walking-stick insects, 
exactly like dry twigs, and the fierce, tall, praying 
mantis with their mock air of meekness and devotion. 
Let one of the other insects stray within reach and 
their piety was quickly enough abandoned! One 
beetle about three eighths of an inch across was 
oblong in shape and of pure glittering gold. His 
wing covers, on the other hand, were round and 
transparent. The effect was of a jewel under a 
tiny glass case. Other beetles were of red dotted 
with black, or of black dotted with red ; they sported 
stripes, or circles of plain colours; they wore long 
slender antennae, or short knobby horns; they car- 
ried rapiers or pinchers, long legs or short. In fact 
they ran the gamut of grace and horror, so that 

237 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

an inebriate would find here a great rest for the 
imagination. 

After we had gone to bed we noticed more pleas- 
antly our cricket. He piped up, you may remember, 
the night of the first great storm. That evening he 
took up his abode in some fold or seam of our tent, 
and there stayed throughout all the rest of the 
journey. Every evening he tuned up cheerfully; 
and we dropped to sleep to the sound of his homelike 
piping. We grew very fond of him; as one does of 
everything in this wild and changing country that 
can represent a stable point of habitude. 

Nor must I forget one evening when all of a sudden 
out of the darkness came a tremendous hollow 
booming, like the beating of war drums or the 
bellowing of some strange great beast. At length 
we identified the performer as an unfamiliar kind 
of frog! 



238 



XXXI 

THE LOST SAFARI 

WE were possessed of a map of sorts, consisting 
mostly of wide blank spaces, with an oc- 
casional tentative mountain, or the probable course 
of streams marked thereon. The only landmark 
that interested us was a single round peak situated 
south of our river and at a point just before we 
should cross the railroad at Tsavo Station. There 
came a day when, from the top of a hill where we 
had climbed for the sake of the outlook, we thought 
we recognized that peak. It was about five miles 
away as the crow flies. 

Then we returned to camp and made the fatal 
mistake of starting to figure. We ought to cover 
the distance, even with the inevitable twists and 
turns, in a day; the tri-weekly train passed through 
Tsavo the following night; if we could catch that 
we would save a two days' wait for the next train. 
You follow the thought. We arose very early the 
next morning to get a good start on our forced march. 

There is no use in spinning out a sad tale. We 

239 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

passed what we thought must be our landmark hill 
just eleven times. The map showed only one butte; 
as a matter of fact there were dozens. At each 
disappointment we had to reconstruct our theories. 
It is the nature of man to do this hopefully — Tsavo 
Station must be just around the next bend. We 
marched six hours without pause; then began to 
save ourselves a little. By all the gods of logical 
reasoning we proved Tsavo just beyond a certain 
fringe of woods. When we arrived we found that 
there the river broke through a range of hills by way 
of a deep gorge. It was a change from the ever- 
lasting scrub, with its tumbling waters, its awful 
cliffs, its luxuriant tropical growths; but it was by 
that the more difficult to make our way through. 
Beyond the gorge we found any amount of hills, 
kopjes, buttes, sugar loafs, etc., each isolated from 
its fellows, each perfectly competent to serve as 
the map's single landmark. 

We should have camped, but we were very anxious 
to make that train; and we were convinced that 
now, after all that work, Tsavo could not be far 
away. It would be ridiculous and mortifying to 
find we had camped almost within sight of our desti- 
nation! 

The heat was very bad, and the force of the sun 
terrific. It seemed to possess actual physical 

240 



THE LOST SAFARI 

weight, and to press us down from above. We 
filled our canteens many times at the swift-running 
stream, and emptied them as often. By two o'clock 
F. was getting a little wobbly from the sun. We 
talked of stopping; when an unexpected thunder 
shower rolled out from behind the mountains, and 
speedily overcast the entire heavens. This shadow 
relieved the stress. F., much revived, insisted that 
we proceed. So we marched; and passed many more 
hills. 

In the meantime it began to rain, after the whole- 
hearted tropical fashion. In two minutes we were 
drenched to the skin. I kept my matches and note- 
book dry by placing them in the crown of my cork 
helmet. After the intense heat this tepid downpour 
seemed to us delicious. 

And then, quite unexpectedly, of course, we came 
around a bend to make out through the sheets of 
rain the steel girders of the famous Tsavo bridge.* 

We clambered up a steep slippery bank to the 
right of way, along which we proceeded half a mile 
to the station. • 

This consisted of two or three native huts, a house 
for the East Indian in charge, and the Station build- 
ing itself. The latter was a small frame structure 

*This is the point at which construction was stopped by man-eating lions. 
See Patterson's "The Man-eaters of Tsavo." 

241 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

with a narrow floorless veranda. There was no 
platform. Drawing close on all sides was the in- 
terminable thorn scrub. Later, when the veil of 
rain had been drawn aside, we found that Tsavo, 
perched on a side hill, looked abroad over a wide 
prospect. For the moment all we saw was a dark, 
dismal, dripping station wherein was no sign of life. 

We were beginning to get chilly, and we wanted 
very much some tea, fire, a chance to dry, pending 
the arrival of our safari. We jerked open the door 
and peered into the inky interior 

"Babu!" yelled F., "Babu!" 

From an inner back room came the faint answer 
in most precise English. 

"I can-not come; I am pray-ing." 

There followed the sharp, quick tinkle of a little 
bell — the Indian manner of calling upon the Lord's 
attention. 

We both knew better than to buck the Insti- 
tutions of the East; so we waited with what 
patience we had, listening to the intermittent tink- 
ling of the little bell. At the end of fully fifteen 
minutes the devotee appeared. He proved to be 
a mild, deprecating little man, very eager to help, 
but without resources. He was a Hindu, and lived 
mainly on tea and rice. The rice was all out, but 
he expected more on the night train. There was no 

242 



THE LOST SAFARI 

trading store here. He was the only inhabitant. 
After a few more answers he disappeared, to return 
carrying two pieces of letter paper on which were 
tea and a little coarse native sugar. These, with a 
half dozen very small potatoes, were all he had to 
offer. 

It did not look very encouraging. We had ab- 
solutely nothing in which to boil water. Of course 
we could not borrow of our host; caste stood in the 
way there. If we were even to touch one of his 
utensils, that utensil was for him defiled forever. 
Nevertheless as we had eaten nothing since four 
o'clock that morning, and had put a hard day's work 
behind us, we made an effort. After a short search 
we captured a savage possessed of a surfuria, or 
native cooking pot. Memba Sasa scrubbed this 
with sand. First we made tea in it, and drank turn 
about, from its wide edge. This warmed us up 
somewhat. Then we dumped in our few potatoes 
and a single guinea fowl that F. had decapitated 
earlier in the day. We ate; and passed the pot over 
to Memba Sasa. 

So far, so good ; but we were still very wet, and the 
uncomfortable thought would obtrude itself that 
the safari might not get in that day. It behooved 
us at least to dry what we had on. I hunted up 
Memba Sasa, whom I found in a native hut. A 

243 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

fire blazed in the middle of the floor. I stooped low 
to enter, and squatted on my heels with the natives. 
Slowly I steamed off the surface moisture. We had 
rather a good time, chatting and laughing. After 
a while I looked out. It had stopped raining. There- 
fore I emerged and set some of the men collecting 
firewood. Shortly I had a fine little blaze going 
under the veranda roof of the station. F. and I 
hung out our breeches to dry, and spread the tails 
of our skirts over the heat. F. was actually the 
human chimney, for the smoke was pouring in clouds 
from the breast and collar of his shirt. We were 
fine figures for the public platform of a railway 
station ! 

We had just about dried off and had reassumed our 
thin and scanty garments, when the babu emerged. 
We stared in drop-jawed astonishment. He had 
muffled his head and mouth in a most brilliant scarf, 
as if for zero weather; although dressed otherwise 
in the usual pongee. Under one arm he carried a 
folded clumsy cotton umbrella; around his waist he 
had belted a huge knife; in his other hand he carried 
his battle-axe. I mean just that — his battle-axe. 
We had seen such things on tapestries or in mu- 
seums, but did not dream that they still existed 
out of captivity. This was an oriental looking 
battle-axe with a handle three feet long, a spike up 

244 



THE LOST SAFARI 

top, a spike out behind, and a half-moon blade in 
front. The babu had with a little of his signal paint 
done the whole thing, blade and all, to a brilliant 
window-shutter green. 

As soon as we had recovered our breath, we asked 
him very politely the reason for these stupendous 
preparations. It seemed that it was his habit to 
take a daily stroll just before sunset, "for the 
sake of the health," as he told us in his accurate 
English. 

"The bush is full of bad men," he explained, 
"who would like to kill me; but when they see this 
axe and this knife they say to each other, 'There 
walks a very bad man. We dare not kill him.' " 

He marched very solemnly a quarter mile up the 
track and back, always in plain view. Promptly 
on his return he dove into his little back room where 
the periodic tinkling of his praying bell for some 
time marked his gratitude for having escaped the 
"bad men." 

The bell ceased. Several times he came to the 
door, eyed us timidly, and bolted back into the 
darkness. Finally he approached to within ten feet, 
twisted his hands and giggled in a most deprecating 
fashion. 

"What is the use of this killing game?" he gabbled 
as rapidly as he could. "Man should not destroy 

245 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

what man cannot first create." After which he 
giggled again, and fled. 

His conscience, evidently, had driven him to this 
defiance of our high and mightinesses against his 
sense of politeness and his fears. 

About this time my boy Mohamet and the cook 
drifted in. They reported that they had left the 
safari not far back. Our hopes of supper and 
blankets rose. They declined, however, with the 
gathering darkness, and were replaced by wrath 
against the faithless ones. Memba Sasa, in spite 
of his long day, took a gun and disappeared in the 
darkness. He did not get back until nine o'clock, 
when he suddenly appeared in the doorway to lean 
the gun in the corner, and to announce, ^^Hapana 
safari.''^ 

We stretched ourselves on a bench and a table — 
the floor was impossible — and took what sleep we 
could. In the small hours the train thundered 
through, the train we had hoped to catch I 



246 



XXXII 
THE BABU 

WE stretched ourselves stiffly in the first gray of 
dawn, wondering where we could get a 
mouthful of breakfast. On emerging from the station 
a strange and gladsome sight met our eyes — viz., 
chop boxes and gun cases put off from last night's 
train, and belonging to some sportsman not yet 
arrived. Necessity knows no law; so we promptly 
helped ourselves to food and gun cleaning imple- 
ments. Much refreshed we lit our pipes, and settled 
ourselves to wait for our delinquents. 

Shortly after sunrise an Indian track inspector 
trundled in on a handcar propelled by two natives. 
He was a suave and corpulent person with a very 
large umbrella and beautiful silken garments. 
The natives upset the handcar off the track, and 
the newcomer settled himself for an enjoyable 
morning. He and the babu discussed ethics and 
metaphysical philosophy for three solid hours. Evi- 
dently they came from different parts of India, and 
their only common language was English. Through 

247 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

the thin partition in the station building we could 
hear plainly every word. It was very interesting. 
Especially did we chortle with delight when the 
inspector began one of his arguments somewhat as i 
follows : 

*^Now the two English who are here. They 
possess great sums of wealth" — F. nudged me de- 
lightedly, ''and they have weapons to kill, and much 
with which to do things, yet their savage minds " 

It was plain, rank, eavesdropping, but most 
illuminating, thus to get at first hand the Eastern 
point of view as to ourselves; to hear the bloodless, 
gentle shell of Indian philosophy described by be- 
lievers. They discussed the most minute and im- 
practical points, and involved themselves in the most 
uncompromising dilemmas. 

Thus the gist of one argument was as follows: 
All sexual intercourse is sin, but the race must go 
forward by means of sexual intercourse; therefore 
the race is conceived in sin and is sinful; but it is a 
great sin for me, as an individual, not to carry 
forward the race, since the Divine Will decrees that 
in some way the race is necessary to it. Therefore 
it would seem that man is in sin whichever way you 
look at it " 

"But," interposes the inspector firmly but 
politely, "is it not possible that sexual sin and the 

248 




"Each day the pinnacles over the way changed slightly 
their compass directions" 



if.#- 



^ 








mm. 



^^1^^^ -"^ f^ 




THE BABU 

sin of opposing Divine Will may be of balance in the 
spirit, so that in resisting one sort a man acquires 

virtue to commit the other without harm " 

And so on for hours. 

At twelve-thirty the safari drifted in. Consider 
that fact, and what it meant. The plain duty of 
the headman was, of course, to have seen that the 
men followed us in the day before. But allowing, 
for the sake of argument, that this was impossible 
and that the men had been forced by the exhaustion 
of some of their number to stop and camp. If they 
had arisen betimes they should have completed the 
journey in two hours, at most. That should have 
brought them in by half-past seven or eight o'clock. 
But a noon arrival condemned them without the 
necessity of argument. They had camped early; 
had arisen very, very late; and had dawdled on 
the road. 

We ourselves gave the two responsible headmen 
twenty lashes apiece; then turned over to them the 
job of thrashing the rest. Ten per man was the 
allotment. They expected the punishment; took it 
gracefully. Some even thanked us when it was 
over! The babu disappeared in his station. 

About an hour later he approached us, very 
deprecating, and handed us a telegram. It was 
from the district commissioner at Voi ordering us 

249 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

to report for "flogging porters on the Tsavo Sta- 
tion platform." 

"I am truly sorry, I am truly sorry," the babu 
was murmuring at our elbows. 

"What does this mean?" we demanded of him. 

He produced a thick book. 

"It is in here — the law," he explained. "You 
must not flog men on the station platform. It was 
my duty to report." 

"How did we know that.f* Why didn't you tell us ?" 

"If you had gone there" — he pointed ten feet 
away to a spot exactly like all other spots — " it 
would have been off the platform. Then I had 
nothing to say." 

We tried to become angry. 

"But why in blazes couldn't you have told us of 
that quietly and decently.^ We'd have moved." 

"It is the law " He tapped his thick book. 

"But we cannot be supposed to know by heart 
every law in that book. Why didn't you warn us 
before reporting?" we insisted. 

"I am truly sorry," he repeated. "I hope and 
trust it will not prove serious. But it is in the 
book." 

We continued in the same purposeless fashion 
for a moment or so longer. Then the babu ended 
the discussion thus: 

250 



THE BABU 

"It was my duty. I am truly sorry. Suppose I 
had not reported and should die to-day, and should 
go to heaven, and God should ask me, *Have you 
done your duty to-day?' what should I say to Him?" 

We gave it up; we were up against Revealed 
Religion. 

So that night we took a freight train southward to 
Voi, leaving the babu and his prayer bell, and his 
green battle-axe and his conscience alone in the 
wilderness. We had quite a respect for that babu. 

The district commissioner listened appreciatively 
to our tale. 

"Of course I shall not carry the matter further," 
he told us, "but having known the babu, you must 
see ^ that once he had reported to me I was com- 
pelled to order you down here. I am sorry for the 
inconvenience." 

And when we reflected on the cataclysmic up- 
heaval that babu would have undergone had we not 
been summoned after breaking one of The Laws 
in The Book, we had to admit the district com- 
missioner was right. 



251 



PART VI 
IN MASAILAND 



XXXIII 
OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT 

OWING to an outbreak of bubonic plague, 
and consequent quarantine, we had recruited 
our men outside Nairobi and had sent them, in 
charge of Cuninghame, to a little station up the 
line. 

Billy and I saw to the loading of our equipment 
on the train, and at two o'clock, in solitary state, 
set forth. Our only attendants were Mohamet and 
Memba Sasa, who had been fumigated and in- 
oculated and generally Red-Crossed for the purpose. 

The little narrow-gauge train doubled and twisted 
in its climb up the range overlooking Nairobi and 
the Athi Plains. Fields of corn grew so tall as 
partially to conceal villages of round, grass-thatched 
huts with conical roofs; we looked down into deep 
ravines where grew the broad-leaved bananas; the 
steep hillsides had all been carefully cultivated. 
Savages leaning on spears watched us puff heavily 
by. Women, richly ornamented with copper wire or 
beads, toiled along bent under loads carried by 

2SS 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

means of a band across the top of the head.* Naked 
children rushed out to wave at us. We were steam- 
ing quite comfortably through Africa as it had been 
for thousands of years before the white man came. 

At Kikuyu Station we came to a halt. Kikuyu 
Station ordinarily embarks about two passengers a 
month, I suppose. Now it was utterly swamped 
with business, for on it had descended all our safari 
of thirty-nine men and three mules. Thirty of the 
thirty-nine yelled and shrieked and got in the wrong 
place, as usual. Cuninghame and the trainmen and 
the station master and our responsible boys heaved 
and tugged and directed, ordered, commanded. At 
length the human element was loaded to its places 
and locked in. Then the mules were to be urged up a 
very narrow gangplank into a dangerous-looking car. 
Quite sensibly they declined to take chances. We 
persuaded them. The process was quite simple. 
Two of the men holding the ends at a safe distance 
stretched a light strong cord across the beasts' hind 
legs, and sawed it back and forth. 

We clanged the doors shut, climbed aboard, and 
the train at last steamed on. Now bits of forest 
came across our way, deep, shaded, with trailing cur- 
tain vines, and wide leaves big as table tops, and 
high lush impenetrable undergrowth full of flashing 

*After the fashion of the Canadian tump line. 

256 



OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT 

birds, fathomless shadows and inquisitive monkeys. 
Occasionally we emerged to the edge of a long oval 
meadow, set in depressions among hills, like our 
Sierra meadows. Indeed so like were these openings 
to those in our own wooded mountains that we 
always experienced a distinct shock of surprise as the 
familiar woods parted to disclose a dark solemn 
savage with flashing spear. 

We stopped at various stations, and descended 
and walked about in the gathering shadows of the 
forest. It was getting cool. Many little things 
attracted our attention, to remain in our memories 
as isolated pictures. Thus I remember one grave 
savage squatted by the track playing on a sort of 
mandolin-shaped instrument. It had two strings, 
and he twanged these alternately, without the 
.slightest effort to change their pitch by stopping with 
his fingers. He bent his head sidewise, and listened 
with the meticulous attention of a connoisseur. 
We stopped at that place for fully ten minutes, but 
not for a second did he leave off twanging his two 
strings, nor did he even momentarily relax his at- 
tention. 

It was now near sundown. We had been climbing 
steadily. The train shrieked twice, and unexpect- 
edly slid out to the edge of the Likipia Escarpment. 
We looked down once more into the great Rift Valley. 

257 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

The Rift Valley is as though a strip of Africa — 
extending half the length of the continent -— had in 
time past sunk bodily some thousands of feet, leaving 
a more or less sheer escarpment on either side, and 
preserving intact its own variegated landscape in 
the bottom. We were on the Likipia Escarpment. 
We looked across to the Mau Escarpment, where 
the country over which our train had been travelling 
continued after its interruption by the valley. And 
below us were mountains, streams, plains. The 
westering sun threw strong slants of light down and 
across. 

The engine shut oflF its power, and we slid silently 
down the rather complicated grades and curves of 
the descent. A noble forest threw its shadows 
over us. Through the chance openings we caught 
glimpses of the pale country far below. Across 
high trestle bridges we rattled, and craned over to 
see the rushing white water of the mountain torrents 
a hundred feet down. The shriek of our engine 
echoed and reechoed weirdly from the serried trunks 
of trees and from the great cliffs that seemed to lift 
themselves as we descended. 

We debarked at Kijabe* well after dark. It is 
situated on a ledge in the escarpment, is perhaps a 
quarter mile wide, and includes nothing more elabo- 

*Pronounce all the syllables. 

• 258 



OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT 

rate than the station, a row of Indian dukkas, and two 
houses of South Africans set back toward the rise in 
the cliffs. A mile or so away, and on a little higher 
level, stand the extensive buildings of an American 
Mission. It is, I believe educational as well as 
sectarian, is situated in one of the most healthful 
climates of East Africa, and is prosperous. 

At the moment we saw none of these things. We 
were too busy getting men, mules, and equipment, 
out of the train. Our lanterns flared in the great 
wind that swept down the defile; and across the track 
little fires flared too. Shortly we made the ac- 
quaintance of Ulyate, the South Africander who 
furnished us our ox teams and wagon; and of a lank, 
drawling youth who was to be our "rider." The 
latter was very anxious to get started, so we piled 
aboard the great wagon all our stores and equipment 
but those immediately necessary for the night. 
Then we returned to the dak-bungalow for a very 
belated supper. While eating this we discussed our 
plans. 

These were in essence very simple. Somewhere 
south of the great Thirst of the Sotik was a river 
called the Narossara. Back of the river were high 
mountains, and down the river were benches drop- 
ping off by thousands of feet to the barren country 
of Lake Maghadi, Over some of this country ranged 

259 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

the greater kudu, easily the prize buck of East 
Africa. We intended to try for a greater kudu. 

People laughed at us. The beast is extremely 
rare; it ranges over a wide area; it inhabits the thick- 
est sort of cover in a sheer mountainous country; its 
senses are wonderfully acute; and it is very wary. A 
man might, once in a blue moon, get one by happen- 
ing upon it accidentally; but deliberately to go after 
it was sheer lunacy. So we were told. As a matter 
of fact, we thought so ourselves, but greater kudu 
was as good an excuse as another. 

The most immediate of our physical difficulties 
was the Thirst. Six miles from Kijabe we would 
leave the Kedong River. After that was no more 
water for two days and nights. During that time 
we should be forced to travel and rest in alternation 
day and night; with a great deal of travel and very 
little rest. We should be able to carry for the men 
a limited amount of water on the ox wagon; but the 
cattle could not drink. It was a hard, anxious 
grind. A day's journey beyond the first water after 
the Thirst we should cross the Southern Guaso 
Nyero River.* Then two days should land us at 
the Narossara. There we must leave our ox wagon 
and push on with our tiny safari. We planned to 
relay back for patio from our different camps. 

*An entirely different stream from that flowing north of Mt. Kenia. 

260 



OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT 

That was our whole plan. Our transport rider's 
object in starting this night was to reach the Kedong 
River, and there to outspan until our arrival next 
day. The cattle would thus get a good feed and 
rest. Then at four in the afternoon we would set 
out to conquer the Thirst. After that it would be a 
question of travelling to suit the oxen. 

Next morning, when we arose, we found one of 
the wagon Kikuyus awaiting us. His tale ran that 
after going four miles, the oxen had been stampeded 
by lions. In the mix-up the dusselboom had been 
broken. He demanded a new dusselboom. I 
looked as wise as though I knew just what that 
meant; and told him, largely, to help himself. 
Shortly he departed carrying what looked to be the 
greater part of a forest tree. 

We were in no hurry, so we did not try to get our 
safari under way before eight o'clock. It consisted 
of twenty nine porters, the gunbearers, three personal 
boys, three syces, and the cook. Of this lot some 
few stand out from the rest, and deserve particular 
attention. 

Of course I had my veterans, Memba Sasa and 
Mohamet. There was also Kongoni, gunbearer, 
elsewhere described. The third gunbearer was 
Mavrouki, a Wakamba. He was the personal gun- 
bearer of a Mr. Twigg, who very courteously loaned 

261 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

him for this trip as possessing some knowledge of the 
country. He was a small person, with stripes 
about his eyes; dressed in a Scotch highland cap, 
khaki breeches, and a shooting coat miles too big for 
him. His soul was earnest, his courage great, his 
training good, his intelligence none too brilliant. 
Timothy, our cook, was pure Swahili. He was a thin, 
elderly individual, with a wrinkled brow of care. 
This represented a conscientious soul. He tried hard 
to please, but he never could quite forget that he had 
cooked for the Governor's safari. His air was always 
one of silent disapproval of our modest outfit. So 
well did he do, however, often under trying circum- 
stances, that at the close of the expedition Billy 
presented him with a very fancy knife. To her vast 
astonishment he burst into violent sobs. 
"Why, what is it?" she asked. 
"Oh, memsahib," he wailed, "I wanted a watch!" 
As personal boy Billy had a Masai named Leyeye.* 
The members of this proud and aristocratic tribe 
rarely condescend to work for the white man; but 
when they do, they are very fine servants, for they 
are highly intelligent. Leyeye was short and very, 
very ugly. Perhaps this may partly explain his 
leaving tribal life; for the Masai generally are over 
six feet. 

*Pionounce ever'^ syllable. 

262 



^i'-ssm ■'■/'■ -.^w^^f^M^ 







OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT 

Cunlnghame's man was an educated coast Swahili 
named Abba Ali. This individual was very smart. 
He wore a neatly trimmed Vandyke beard, a flannel 
boating hat, smart tailored khakis, and carried a rat- 
tan cane. He was alert, quick, and intelligent. His 
position was midway between that of personal boy 
and headman. 

Of the rank and file we began with twenty-nine. 
Two changed their minds before we were fairly 
started and departed in the night. There was no 
time to get regular porters ; but fortunately a Kikuyu 
chief detailed two wild savages from his tribe to act 
as carriers. These two children of nature drifted in 
with pleasant smiles, and little else save knick- 
knacks. From our supplies we gave them two thin 
jerseys, reaching nearly to the knees. Next day they 
appeared with broad tucks sewed around the middle ! 
They looked like "My mama didn't use wool soap." 
We then gave it up, and left them free and untram- 
melled. 

They differed radically. One was past the first 
enthusiasms and vanities of youth. He was small, 
unobtrusive, unornamented. He had no possessions 
save the jersey, the water bottle and the blanket we 
ourselves supplied. The blanket he crossed bando- 
lier fashion on one shoulder. It hung down behind 
like a tasselled sash. His face was little and wizened 

263 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

and old. He was quiet and uncomplaining, and the 
"easy mark" for all the rest. We had constantly 
to be interfering to save him. from imposition as to 
too heavy loads, too many chores and the like. 
Nearing the close of the long expedition, when our 
loads were lighter and fewer, one day Cuninghame 
spoke up. 

"I'm going to give the old man a good time," said 
he, "I doubt if he's ever had one before, or if he ever 
will again. He's that sort of a meek damn fool." 

So it was decreed that Kimau* should carry 
nothing for the rest of the trip, was to do no more 
work, was to have all he wanted to eat. It was 
a treat to see him. He accepted these things without 
surprise, without spoken thanks; just as he would 
have accepted an increased supply of work and kicks. 
Before his little fire he squatted all day, gazing 
vacantly off into space, or gnawing on a piece of the 
meat he always kept roasting on sticks. He spoke 
to no one; he never smiled or displayed any obvious 
signs of enjoyment; but from him radiated a feeling 
of deep content. 

His companion savage was a young blood, and 
still affected by the vanities of life. His hair he 
wore in short tight curls, resembling the rope hair of 

*His official name was Lightfoot Queen of the Fairies because of his ballet- 
like costume. 

264 



OVER THE LIKIPIA ESCARPMENT 

a French poodle, liberally anointed with castor-oil 
and coloured with red-paint clay. His body too 
was turned to bronze by the same method; so that 
he looked like a beautiful smooth metal statue come 
to life. To set this quality off he wore glittering 
collars, bracelets, anklets, and ear ornaments of 
polished copper and brass. When he joined us his 
sole costume was a negligent two-foot strip of cotton 
cloth. After he had received his official jersey, he 
carefully tied the cloth over his wonderful head; nor 
as far as we knew did he again remove it until the end 
of the expedition. All his movements were inexpres- 
sibly graceful. They reminded one somehow of 
Flaxman's drawings of the Greek gods. His face, 
too, was good-natured and likable. A certain half 
feminine, wild grace, combined with the queer effect 
of his headgear, caused us to name him Daphne. At 
home he was called Kingangui. 

At first he carried his burden after the fashion of 
savages — on the back; and kept to the rear of the 
procession; and at evening consorted only with old 
LIghtfoot. As soon as opportunity offered he built 
himself a marvellous Iridescent ball of marabout 
feathers. Each of these he split along the quill, so 
that they curled and writhed In the wind. This pictu- 
resque charm he suspended from a short pole in front 
of his tent. Also, since he belonged to the Kikuyu 

265 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

tribe, he ate no game meat; but confined his diet 
to cornmeal potio. We were much interested in 
watching Daphne's gradual conversion from savage 
ways to those of the regular porter. Within two 
weeks he was carrying his load on his head or 
shoulder, and trying to keep up near the head of the 
safari. The charm of feathers disappeared shortly 
after, I am sorry to say. He took his share of the 
meat. Within two months Daphne was imitating 
as closely as possible the manners and customs of his 
safari mates. But he never really succeeded in look- 
ing anything but the wild and graceful savage he was. 



266 



XXXIV 
TO THE KEDONG 

FOR four hours we descended the valley through 
high thorn scrub, or the occasional grassy 
openings. We were now in the floor of the Rift 
Valley, and both along the escarpments and in the 
floor of the great blue valley itself mountains were 
all about us. Most of the large ones were evidently 
craters; and everywhere were smaller kopjes or 
buttes, that in their day had also served as blow 
holes for subterranean fires. 

At the end of this time we arrived at the place 
where we were supposed to find the wagon. No 
wagon was there. 

The spot was in the middle of a level plain on 
which grew very scattered bushes, a great deal like 
the sparser mesquite growths of Arizona. Toward 
the Likipia Escarpment, and about halfway to its 
base, a line of trees marked the course of the Kedong 
River. Beyond that, fairly against the mountain, 
we made out a settler's house. 

Leaving Billy and the safari, Cuninghame and I set 
267 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

out for this house. The distance was long, and we 
had not made half of it before thunder clouds began 
to gather. They came up thick and black behind the 
escarpment, and rapidly spread over the entire heav- 
ens. We found the wagon shortly, still mending its 
dusselboom, or whatever the thing was. Leaving 
instructions for it to proceed to a certain point on 
the Kedong River, we started back for our safari. 

It rained. In ten minutes the dusty plains, as 
far as the eye could reach, were covered with water 
two or three inches deep, from which the sparse 
bunches of grasses grew like reeds in a great marshy 
lake. We splashed along with the water over our 
ankles. The channels made by the game trails 
offered natural conduits, and wherever there was 
the least grade they had become rushing brooks. 
We found the safari very bedraggled. Billy had 
made a mound of valuables atop which she perched, 
her waterproof cape spread as wide as possible, a 
good deal like a brooding hen. We set out for the 
meeting point on the Kedong. In half an hour 
we had there found a bit of higher ground and had 
made camp. 

As suddenly as they had gathered the storm clouds 
broke away. The expiring sun sent across the 
valley a flood of golden light, that gilded the rugged 
old mountain of Suswa over the way. 

268 



TO THE KEDONG 

"Directly on the other side of Suswa," Cun- 
inghame told me, "there is a 'pan' of hard clay. 
This rain will fill it; and we shall find water there. 
We can take a night's rest, and set off comfortably 
in the morning." 

So the rain that had soaked us so thoroughly was 
a blessing after all. While we were cooking supper 
the wagon passed us, its wheels and frame creaking, 
its great whip cracking like a rifle, its men shrieking 
at the imperturbable team of eighteen oxen. It 
would travel until the oxen wanted to graze, or 
sleep, or scratch an ear, or meditate on why is a 
Kikuyu. Thereupon they would be outspanned and 
allowed to do it, whatever it was, until they were 
ready to go on again. Then they would go on. 
These sequences might take place at any time of 
the day or night, and for greater or lesser intervals 
of time. That was distinctly up to the oxen; the 
human beings had mighty little to say in the matter. 
But transport riding, from the point of view of the 
rank outsider, really deserves a chapter of its own. 



269 



XXXV 
THE TRANSPORT RIDER 

THE wagon is one evolved in South Africa, a 
long, heavily constructed affair, with ingen- 
ious braces and timbers so arranged as to furnish 
the maximum clearance with the greatest facility 
for substitution in case the necessity for repairs 
might arise. The whole vehicle can be dismounted 
and reassembled in a few hours; so that unfordable 
streams or impossible bits of country can be crossed 
piecemeal. Its enormous wheels are set wide apart. 
The brake is worked by a crank at the rear; like a 
reversal of the starting mechanism of a motor car. 
Bolted to the frame on either side between the front 
and rear wheels are capacious cupboards, and two 
stout water kegs swing to and fro when the craft 
is under way. The net carrying capacity of such a 
wagon is from three to four thousand pounds. 

This formidable vehicle in our own case was 
drawn by a team of eighteen oxen.' The biggest 
brutes, the wheelers, were attached to a tongue; 
all the others pulled on a long chain. The only 

270 



THE TRANSPORT RIDER 

harness was the pronged yoke that fitted just for- 
ward of the hump. Over rough country the wheelers 
were banged and jerked about savagely by the 
tongue; they did not seem to mind it, but exhibited 
a certain amount of intelligence in manipulation. 

To drive these oxen we had one white man, named 
Brown, and two small Kikuyu savages. One of 
these worked the brake crank in the rear; while the 
other preceded the lead cattle. Brown exercised 
general supervision, a long lashed whip, and Boer- 
Dutch expletives and admonitions. 

In transport riding, as this game is called, there 
is required a great amount of especial skill, though 
not necessarily a high degree of intelligence. Along 
the flats all goes well enough; but once in the un- 
believable rough country of a hill trek the situation 
alters. A man must know cattle and their symp- 
toms. It is no light feat to wake up eighteen 
sluggish bovine minds to the necessity for effort, and 
then to throw so much dynamic energy into the 
situation that the whole eighteen will begin to pull 
at once. That is the secret; unanimity. An ox is 
the most easily discouraged working animal on earth. 
If the first three couples begin to haul before the 
others have aroused to their effort, they will not 
succeed in budging the wagon an inch, but after a 
moment's struggle will give up completely. By that 

271 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

time the leaders respond to the command and throw 
themselves forward in the yoke. In vain. They 
cannot pull the wagon and their wheel comrades too. 
Therefore they give up. By this time, perhaps, the 
lash has aroused the first lot to another effort. And 
so they go, pulling and hauling against each other, 
getting nowhere, until the end is an exhausted team, 
a driver half insane, and a great necessity for un- 
loading. 

A good driver on the other hand, shrieks a few 
premonitory Dutch words — and then! I suppose 
inside those bovine heads the effect is somewhat that 
of a violent electric explosion. At any rate it hits 
them all at once; and all together, in response, they 
surge against their yokes. The heavily laden wagon 
creaks, groans, moves forward. The hurricane of 
Dutch and the volleys of whip crackings rise to a 
crescendo. We are off! 

To perform just this little simple trick of getting 
the thing started requires not only a peculiar skill 
or gift, but also lungs of brass and a throat of iron. 
A transport rider without a voice is as a tenor in 
the same fix. He may — and does — get so hoarse 
that it is a pain to hear him; but as long as he can 
croak in good volume he is all right. Mere shouting 
will not do. He must shriek, until to the sym- 
pathetic bystander it seems that his throat must 

272 



THE TRANSPORT RIDER 

split wide open. Furthermore, he must shriek the 
proper things. It all sounds alike to every one but 
transport riders and oxen; but as a matter of fact 
it is Boer-Dutch, nicely assorted to suit different 
occasions. It is incredible that oxen should dis- 
tinguish; but, then, it is also incredible that trout 
should distinguish the nice differences in artificial 
flies. 

After the start has been made successfully, the 
craft must be kept under way. To an unbiased by- 
stander the whole affair looks insane. The wagon 
creaks and sways and groans and cries aloud as it 
bumps over great boulders in the way; the leading 
Kikuyu dances nimbly and shrills remarks at the 
nearest cattle; the tail Kikuyu winds energetically 
back and forth on his little handle, and tries to keep 
his feet. And Brown! he is magnificent! His long 
lash sends out a volley of rifle reports, down, up, 
ahead, back; his cracked voice roars out an unending 
stream of apparent gibberish. Back and forth along 
the line of the team he skips nimbly, the sweat stream- 
ing from his face. And the oxen plod along, unhast- 
ing, unexcited, their eyes dreamy, chewing the end 
of yesterday's philosophic reflection. The situation 
conveys the general impression of a peevish little 
stream breaking against great calm cliffs. All this 
frantic excitement and expenditure of energy is so 

273 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

apparently purposeless and futile, the calm cattle 
seem so aloof and superior to it all, so absolutely 
unaffected by it. They are going slowly, to be sure, 
their gait may be maddeningly deliberate, but evi- 
dently they do not intend to be hurried. Why not 
let them take their own speed? 

But all this hullabaloo means something, after all. 
It does its business, and the top of the boulder- 
strewn hill is gained. Without it the whole concern 
would have stopped; and then the wagon would have 
had to be unloaded before a fresh start could have 
been made. Results with cattle are not shown by 
facial expression nor by increased speed, but simply 
by continuance. They will plod up steep hills or 
along the level at the same placid gait. Only in 
the former case they require especial treatment. 

In case the wagon gets stuck on a hill, as will 
occasionally happen, so that all the oxen are dis- 
couraged at once, we would see one of the Kikuyus 
leading the team back and forth, back and forth, 
on the side hill just ahead of the wagon. This is 
to confuse their minds, cause them to forget their 
failure, and thus to make another attempt. 

At one stretch we had three days of real moun- 
tains. N'gombe* Brown shrieked like a steam cal- 
liope all the way through. He lasted the distance, 

* N'gombe — oxen. 

274 



THE TRANSPORT RIDER 

but had little campfire conversation even with his 
beloved Kikuyus. 

When the team was outspanned, which in the water- 
less country of forced marches is likely to be almost 
any time of the day or night, N'gombe Brown sought 
a little rest. For this purpose he had a sort of bunk 
that let down underneath the wagon. If it was 
daytime, the cattle were allowed to graze under 
supervision of one of the Kikuyus. If it was night 
time they were tethered to the long chain, where they 
lay in a somnolent double row. A lantern at the head 
of the file and one at the wagon's tail were supposed 
to discourage lions. In a bad lion country fires 
were added to these defences. 

N'gombe Brown thus worked hard all of varied 
and long hours in strict intimacy with stupid and 
exasperating beasts. After working hours he liked 
to wander out to watch those same beasts grazing! 
His mind was as full of cattle as that! Although we 
offered him reading matter, he never seemed to care 
for it, nor for long-continued conversation with 
white people not of his trade. In fact the only 
gleam of interest I could get out of him was by 
commenting on the qualities or peculiarities of the 
oxen. He had a small mouth organ on which he 
occasionally performed, and would hold forth for 
hours with his childlike Kikuyus. In the intelli- 

275 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

gence to follow ordinary directions he was an infant. 
We had to iterate and reiterate in words of one 
syllable our directions as to routes and meeting 
points, and then he was quite as apt to go wrong as 
right. Yet, I must repeat, he knew thoroughly all 
the ins and outs of a very difficult trade, and under- 
stood, as well, how to keep his cattle always fit and 
in good condition. In fact he was a little hipped 
on what the "dear rCgomhes^^ should or should not 
be called upon to do. 

One incident will illustrate all this better than I 
could explain it. When we reached the Narossara 
River we left the wagon and pushed on afoot. We 
were to be gone an indefinite time; and we left 
N'gombe Brown and his outfit very well fixed. 
Along the Narossara ran a pleasant shady strip of 
high jungle; the country about was clear and open; 
but most important of all, a white man of education 
and personal charm occupied a trading boma, or 
enclosure, near at hand. An accident changed our 
plans and brought us back unexpectedly at the end 
of a few weeks. We found that N'gombe Brown 
had trekked back a long day's journey, and was 
encamped alone at the end of a spur of mountains. 
We sent native runners after him. He explained 
his change of base by saying that the cattle feed was 
a little better at his new camp! Mind you this; at 

276 



THE TRANSPORT RIDER 

the Narossara the feed was plenty good enough, the 
oxen were doing no work, there was companionship, 
books, papers, and even a phonograph to while away 
the long weeks until our return. N'gombe Brown 
quite cheerfully deserted all this, to live in solitude 
where he imagined the feed to be microscopically 
better! 



277 



XXXVI 
ACROSS THE THIRST 

WE were off a bright, clear day after the rains. 
Suswa hung grayish pink against the bluest 
of skies. Our way slanted across the Rift Valley 
to her base; turned the corner, and continued on 
the other side of the great peak until we had reached 
the rainwater *^pan" on her farther side. It was a 
long march. 

The plains were very wide and roomy. Here and 
there on them rose many small cones and craters, 
lava flows and other varied evidences of recent 
volcanic activity. Geologically recent, I mean. 
The grasses of the flowing plains were very brown, 
and the molehill craters very dark; the larger craters 
blasted and austere; the higher escarpment in the 
background blue with a solemn distance. The sizes 
of things were not originally fitted out for little 
tiny people like human beings. We walked hours 
to reach landmarks apparently only a few miles 
away. 

In this manner we plodded along industriously un- 

278 



ACROSS THE THIRST 

til noon, by which time we had nearly reached the 
shoulder of Suswa, around which we had to double. 
The sun was strong, and the men not yet hardened 
to the work. We had many stragglers. After lunch 
Memba Sasa and I strolled along on a route flanking 
that of the safari looking for the first of our meat 
supply. Within a short time I had killed a Thomp- 
son's gazelle. Some solemn giraffes looked on at 
the performance, and then moved off liked mechan- 
ical toys. 

The day lengthened. We were in the midst of 
wonderful scenery. Our objection grew to be that 
it took so long to put any of it behind us. Insensi- 
bly, however, we made progress. Suddenly, as it 
seemed, we found ourselves looking at the other 
side of Suswa, and various brand-new little craters 
had moved up to take the places of our old friends. 
At last, about half-past four, we topped the swell 
of one of the numerous and interminable land 
billows that undulate across all plains countries here, 
and saw, a few miles away, the wagon outspanned. 
We reached it about sunset, to be greeted by the 
welcome news that there was indeed water in the 
pan. 

We unsaddled just before dark, and I immediately 
started toward the game herds, many of which were 
grazing a half mile away. The gazelle would supply 

279 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

our own larder, but meat for hard-worked men was 
very desirable. I shot a hartebeeste, made the 
prearranged signal for men to carry meat, and re- 
turned to camp. 

Even yet the men were not all in. We took lan- 
terns and returned along the road; for the long 
marches under a desert sun are no joke. At last 
we had accounted for all but two. These we had 
to abandon. Next day we found their loads, but 
never laid eyes on them again. Thus early our 
twenty-nine became twenty-seven. 

About nine o'clock, about as we were turning, in a 
number of lions began to roar. Usually a lion roars 
once or twice by way of satisfaction after leaving 
a kill. These, however, were engaged in driving 
game, and hence trying to make as much noise as 
possible. We distinguished plainly seven individuals, 
perhaps more. The air trembled with the sound as 
to the deepest tones of a big organ, only the organ 
is near and enclosed, while these vibrations were 
in the open air and remote. For a few moments 
the great salvos would boom across the veldt, roll 
after roll of thunder; then would ensue a momentary 
dead silence; then a single voice would open, to be 
joined immediately by the others. 

We awoke next day to an unexpected cold drizzle. 
This was a bit uncomfortable, from one point of 

280 





From it we looked down into the deep gorge of ttie 
Southern Guaso Nyero" 



ACROSS THE THIRST 

view, and most unusual, but it robbed the Thirst of 
its terrors. We were enabled to proceed leisurely, 
and to get a good sleep near water every night. 
The wagon had, as usual, pulled out some time dur- 
ing the night. 

Our way led over a succession of low rolling 
ridges each higher that its predecessor. Game herds 
fed in the shallow valleys between. At about ten 
o'clock we came to the foot of the Mau Escarpment; 
and also to the unexpected sight of the wagon 
outspanned. N'gombe Brown explained to us that 
the oxen had refused to proceed farther in face of 
a number of lions that came around to sniff at them. 
Then the rain had come on, and he had been un- 
willing to attempt the Mau while the footing was 
slippery. This sounded reasonable; in fact it was 
still reasonable. The grass was here fairly neck 
high, and we found a rain-filled water hole. There^ 
fore we decided to make camp. Cuninghame and I 
wandered out in search of game. We tramped a great 
deal of bold, rugged country, both in cafion bottoms 
and along the open ridges, but found only a rhinoce- 
ros, one bush buck and a dozen hartebeeste. African 
game, as a general rule, avoids a country where the 
grass grows very high. We enjoyed, however, some 
bold and wonderful mountain scenery; and obtained 
glimpses through the flying murk of the vast plains 

281 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

at the base of Suswa. On a precipitous canon 
cliff we found a hanging garden of cactus and of 
looped cactuslike vines that was a marvel to behold. 
We ran across the hartebeeste on our way home. 
Our men were already out of meat: the hartebeeste 
of yesterday had disappeared. These porters are 
a good deal like the old-fashioned Michigan lumber- 
jacks — they take a good deal of feeding for the 
first few days. When we came upon the little herd 
in the neck-high grass, I took a shot. At the report 
the animal went down flat. We wandered over 
slowly. Memba Sasa whetted his knife and walked 
up. Thereupon Mr. Hartebeeste jumped to his 
feet; flirted his tail gayly, and departed. We fol- 
lowed him a mile or so, but he got stronger and 
gayer every moment; until at last he frisked out of 
the landscape quite strong and hearty. In all my 
African experience I lost only six animals hit by 
bullets, as I took infinite pains and any amount of 
time to hunt down wounded beasts. This animal 
was, I think, "creased" by too high a shot. Cer- 
tainly he was not much injured; and certainly he 
got a big shock to start with. 

The little herd had gone on. I got down and 
crawled on hands and knees in the thick grass. It 
was slow work; and I had to travel by landmarks. 
When I finally reckoned I had about reached the 

282 



ACROSS THE THIRST 

proper place, I stood up suddenly, my rifle at ready. 
So dense was the cover and so still the air that I 
had actually crawled right into the middle of the 
bandl While we were cutting up the meat the 
sun broke through strongly. 

Therefore the wagon started on up the Mau at 
six o'clock. Twelve hours later we followed. The 
fine drizzle had set in again. We were very glad 
the wagon had taken advantage of the brief dry 
time. 

From the top of the sheer rise we looked back for 
the last time over the wonderful panorama of the 
Rift Valley. Before us were wide rounded hills 
covered with a scattered small growth that in general 
appearance resembled scrub oak. It sloped away 
gently until it was lost in mists. Later, when these 
cleared, we saw distant blue mountains across a 
tremendous shallow basin. We were nearly on a 
level with the summit of Suswa itself, nor did we 
again drop much below that altitude. After five 
or six miles we overtook the wagon outspanned. 
The projected all-night journey had again been frus- 
trated by the lions. These beasts had proved so 
bold and menacing that finally the team had been 
forced to stop in sheer self-defence. However, the 
day was cool and overcast, so nothing was lost. 

After topping the Mau we saw a few gazelle, 

283 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

zebra., and hartebeeste; but soon plunged into a 
bush country quite destitute of game. We were 
paralleling the highest ridge of the escarpment; 
and so alternated between the crossing of canons 
and the travelling along broad ridges between them. 
In lack of other amusement for a long time I rode 
with the wagon. The country was very rough and 
rocky. Everybody was excited to the point of 
frenzy, except the wagon. It had a certain Dutch 
stolidity in its manner of calmly and bumpily sur- 
mounting such portions of the landscape as happened 
in its way. 

After a very long tiresome march we camped 
above a little stream. Barring our lucky rain this 
would have been the first water since leaving the 
Kedong River. Here were hundreds of big blue 
pigeons swooping in to their evening drink. 

For two days more we repeated this sort of travel; 
but always with good camps at fair-sized streams. 
Gradually we slanted away from the main ridge; 
though we still continued cross-cutting the swells 
and ravines thrown off its flanks. Only the ravines 
hour by hour became shallower, and the swells lower 
and broader. On their tops the scrub sometimes 
gave way to openings of short-grass. On these fed 
a few gazelle of both sorts, and an occasional zebra 
or so. We saw also four topi, a beast about the 

284 



ACROSS THE THIRST 

size of our caribou, built on the general specifications 
of a hartebeeste, but with the most beautiful iri- 
descent plum-coloured coats. This quartette was 
very wild. I made three separate stalks on them, 
but the best I could do was 360 paces, at which 
range I missed. 

Finally we surmounted the last low swell to look 
down a wide and sloping plain to the depression in 
which flowed the principal riyer of these parts, the 
Southern Guaso Nyero. Beyond it stretched the 
immense oceanlike plains of the Loieta, from which 
here and there rose isolated hills, very distant, like 
lonseome ships at sea. A little to the left, also very 
distant, we could make out an unbroken blue range 
of mountains. These were our ultimate destination. 



28s 



XXXVII 
THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO 

THE southern Guaso Nyero, unlike its northern 
namesake, is a sluggish muddy stream, rather 
small, flowing between abrupt clay banks. Farther 
down it drops into great canons and eroded abysses, 
and acquires a certain grandeur. But here, at the 
ford of Agate's Drift, it is decidedly unimpressive. 
Scant greenery ornaments its banks. In fact, at 
most places they run hard and baked to a sheer 
drop-off of ten or fifteen feet. Scattered mimosa 
trees and aloes mark its course. The earth for a 
mile or so is trampled by thousands of Masai cattle 
that at certain seasons pass through the funnel of 
this, the only ford for miles Apparently insignificant, 
it is given to sudden, tremendous rises. These 
originate in the rainfalls of the upper Mau Escarp- 
ment, many miles away. It behooves the safari to 
cross promptly if it can; and to camp always on the 
farther bank. 

This we did, pitching our tents in a little opening, 
between clumps of pretty flowering aloes and the 

286 



THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO 

mimosas. Here, as everywhere in this country until 
we had passed the barrier of the Narossara moun- 
tains, the common houseflies were a plague. They 
follow the Masai cattle. I can give you no better 
idea of their numbers than to tell you two isolated 
facts; I killed twenty-one at one blow; and in the 
morning before sunrise the apex of our tent held a 
solid black mass of the creatures running the length 
of the ridge pole, and from half an inch to two 
inches deep ! Every pack was black with them on 
the march; and the wagon carried its millions. 
When the shadow of a branch would cross that 
slowly lumbering vehicle, the swarm would rise and 
bumble around distractedly for a moment before 
settling down again. They fairly made a nimbus 
of darkness. 

After we had made camp we saw a number of 
Masai warriors hovering about the opposite bank, 
but they did not venture across. Some of their 
women did, however, and came cheerfully into camp. 
These most interesting people are worth more than 
a casual word, so I shall reserve my observations on 
them until a later chapter. One of our porters, a 
big Baganda named Sabakaki, was suffering severely 
from pains in the chest that subsequently developed 
into pleurisy. From the Masai women we tried to 
buy some of the milk they carried in gourds. At 

287 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

first they seemed not averse, but as soon as they 
realized the milk was not for our own consumption, 
they turned their backs on poor Sabakaki and re- 
fused to have anything more to do with us. 

These Masai are very difficult to trade with. 
Their only willing barter is done in sheep. These 
they seem to consider legitimate objects of commerce. 

A short distance from our camp stood three white- 
washed round houses with thatched, conical roofs, 
property of a trader named Agate. He was away 
at the time of our visit. 

After an early morning but vain attempt to get 
Billy a shot at a lion* we set out for our distant blue 
mountains. The day was a journey over plains of 
great variegation. At times they were covered with 
thin scrub; at others with small groves; or again 
they were open and grassy. Always they undulated 
gently, so from their tops one never saw as far as 
he thought he was going to see. As landmark we 
steered by a good-sized butte named Donya Rasha. 

Memba Sasa and I marched ahead on foot. In 
this thin scrub we got glimpses of many beasts. At 
one time we were within fifty yards of a band of 
magnificent eland. By fleeting glimpses we saw also 
many wildebeeste and zebra, with occasionally one; 
of the smaller grass antelope. Finally, in an openi 

*See "The Land of Footprints." | 

288 




g:^ 



The Eland 



SfjM^ '' 




Cape Buffalo 



THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO 

glade we caught sight of something tawny showing 
in the middle of a bush. It was too high off the 
ground to be a buck. We sneaked nearer. At 
fifty yards we came to a halt, still puzzled. Judging 
by its height and colour, it should be a lion, but 
try as we would, we could not make out what part 
of his anatomy was thus visible. At last I made 
up my mind to give him a shot from the Springfield, 
with the .405 handy. At the shot the tawny patch 
heaved and lay still. We manoeuvred cautiously, 
and found we had killed stone dead not a lion, but 
a Bohur reed buck lying atop an anthill concealed 
in the middle of the bush. This accounted for its 
height above the ground. As it happened, I very 
much wanted one of these animals as a specimen; 
so everybody was satisfied. 

Shortly after, attracted by a great concourse of 
carrion birds, both on trees and in the air, we pene^ 
trated a thicket to come upon a full-grown giraffe 
killed by lions. The claw marks and other indica- 
tions were indubitable. The carcass had been 
partly eaten; but was rapidly vanishing under the 
attacks of the birds. 

Just before noon we passed Donya Rasha and 
emerged on the open plains. Here I caught sight 
of a Roberts' gazelle, a new species to me, and 
started alone in pursuit. They, as usual, trotted 

289 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

over the nearest rise; so with due precautions I 
followed after. At the top of that rise I lay still 
in astonishment. Before me marched solemnly an 
unbroken single file of game, reaching literally to 
my limit of vision in both directions. They came 
over the land swell a mile to my left, and they were 
disappearing over another land swell a mile and a 
half to my right. It was rigidly single file, except 
for the young; the nose of one beast fairly touching 
the tail of the one ahead, and it plodded along at 
a businesslike walk. There were but three species 
represented, the gnu, the zebra, and the hartebeeste. 
I did not see the head of the procession, for it had 
gone from sight before I arrived; nor did I ever see 
the tail of it either, for the safari appearing inop- 
portunely broke its continuance. But I saw two 
miles and a half, solid, of big game. It was a great 
and formal trek, probably to new pastures. 

Then I turned my attention to the Roberts' gazelle, 
and my good luck downed a specimen at 273 yards. 
This with the Bohur reed buck, made the second 
new species for the day. Our luck was not yet over, 
however. We had proceeded but a few miles when 
Kongoni discovered a herd of topi. The safari im- 
mediately lay down, while I went ahead. There 
was little cover, and I had a very hard time to get 
within range, especially as a dozen zebras kept 

290 



THE SOUTHERN GUASO NYERO 

grazing across the line of my stalks. The topi 
themselves were very uneasy, crossing and recrossing 
and looking doubtfully in my direction. I had a 
number of chances at small bucks, but refused them 
in my desire to get a shot at the big leader of the 
herd. Finally he separated from the rest and faced 
in my direction at just 268 yards. At the shot he 
fell dead. 

For the first time we had an opportunity to 
admire the wonderful pelt. It is beautiful in quality, 
plum colour, with iridescent lights and wavy "water 
marks" changing to pearl colour on the four quarters, 
with black legs. We were both struck with the 
gorgeousness of a topi motor-rug made of three 
skins, with these pearl spots as accents in the corners. 
To our ambitions and hopes we added more topi. 

Our journey to the Narossara River lasted three 
days in all. We gained an outlying spur of the blue 
mountains, and skirted their base. The usual varied 
foothill country led us through defiles, over ridges, 
and by charming groves. We began to see Masai 
cattle in great herds. The gentle humpbacked 
beasts were held in close formation by herders afoot, 
tall, lithe young savages with spears. In the distance 
and through the heat haze the beasts shimmered 
strangely, their glossy reds and whites and blacks 
blending together. In this country of wide ex- 

291 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

panses and clear air we could thus often make out 
a very far-off herd simply as a speck of rich colour 
against the boundless rolling plains. 

Here we saw a good variety of game. Zebras of 
course, and hartebeeste; the Robert's gazelle, a few 
topi, a good many of the gnu or wildebeeste dis- 
covered by and named after Roosevelt; a few giraffes, 
klipspringer on the rocky buttes, cheetah, and the 
usual jackals, hyenas, etc. I killed one very old 
zebra. So ancient was he that his teeth had worn 
down to the level of the gums, which seemed fairly 
on the point of closing over. Nevertheless he was 
still fat and sleek. He could not much longer have 
continued to crop the grass. Such extreme age in 
wild animals is, in Africa at least, most remarkable; 
for generally they meet violent deaths while still 
in their prime. 

About three o'clock of the third afternoon we came 
in sight of a long line of forest trees running down 
parallel with the nearest mountain ranges. These 
marked the course of the Narossara; and by four 
o'clock we were descending the last slope. 



292 



XXXVIII 
THE LOWER BENCHES 

THE Narossara Is really only about creek size, 
but as it flows the year around it merits the 
title of river. It rises in the junction of a long 
spur with the main ranges, cuts straight across a 
wide inward bend of the mountains, joins them again, 
plunges down a deep and tremendous canon to 
the level of a second bench below great cliffs, mean- 
ders peacefully in flowery meadows and delightful 
glades for some miles, and then once more, and, 
most unexpectedly, drops eighteen hundred feet by 
waterfall and precipitous cascade to join the Southern 
Guaso Nyero. The country around this junction 
is some of the roughest I saw in Africa. 

We camped at the spot where the river ran at 
about its maximum distance from the mountains. 
Our tents were pitched beneath the shade of tall and 
refreshing trees. 

A number of Masai women visited us, laughing 
and joking with Billy in their quizzically humorous 
fashion. About as we were sitting down at table 

293 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

an Englishman wandered out of the greenery and 
approached. He was a small man, with a tremen- 
dous red beard; wore loose garments and tennis shoes; 
and strolled up, his hands in his pockets and smok- 
ing a cigarette. This was V., a man of whom we 
had heard. A member of a historical family, officer 
in a crack English regiment, he had resigned every- 
thing to come into this wild country. Here he had 
built a "boma," or enclosed compound, and engaged 
himself in acquiring Masai sheep in exchange for 
beads, wire, and cloth. Obviously the profits of 
such transactions could not be the temptation. He 
liked the life, and he liked his position of influence 
with these proud and savage people. Strangely 
enough, he cared little for the sporting possibilities 
of the country, though of course he did a little 
occasional shooting; but was quite content with his 
trading, his growing knowledge of and intimacy with 
the Masai, and his occasional tremendous journeys. 
To the casual and infrequent stranger his attitude 
was reported most uncertain. 

We invited him to tea, which he accepted, and we 
fell into conversation. He and Cuninghame were al- 
ready old acquaintances. The man, I found, was shy 
about talking of the things that interested him; but as 
they most decidedly interested us also we managed 
to convey an impression of our sincerity. There- 

294 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

after he was most friendly. His helpfulness, kind- 
ness, and courtesy could not have been bettered. 
He lent us his own boy as guide down through the 
canons of the Narossara to the lower benches, where 
we hoped to find kudu; he offered store room to 
such of our supplies as we intended holding in 
reserve; he sent us sheep and eggs as a welcome 
variation of our game diet; and in addition he gave 
us Masai implements and ornaments we could not 
possibly have acquired in any other way. It is 
impossible to buy the personal belongings of this 
proud and independent people at any price. The 
price of a spear ordinarily runs about two rupees' 
worth, when one trades with any other tribe. I 
know of a case where a Masai was offered fifty 
rupees for his weapon, but refused scornfully. V. 
acquired these things through friendship; and after 
we had gained his, he was most generous with them. 
Thus he presented us with a thing almost impossible 
to get and seen rarely outside of museums — the 
Masai war bonnet made of the mane of a lion. It 
is in shape and appearance, though not in colour, 
almost exactly like the grenadier's shako of the last 
century. In addition to this priceless trophy V. 
also gave us samples of the cattle bells, both wooden 
and metal, ivory ear ornaments, bead bracelets, 
steel collars, circumcision knives, sword belts, and 

295 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

other affairs of like value. But I think that the 
apogee of his kindliness was reached when much 
later he heard from the native tribes that we were 
engaged in penetrating the defiles of the higher 
mountains. Then he sent after us a swift Masai 
runner bearing to us a bottle of whiskey and a mes- 
sage to the effect that V. was afraid we would find 
it very cold up there! Think of what that meant; 
turn it well over in your mind, with all the circum- 
stances of distance from supplies, difficulty of trans- 
portation and all! We none of us used whiskey in 
the tropics, so we later returned it with suitable 
explanation and thanks as being too good to waste. 

Next morning, under guidance of our friend's boy, 
we set out for the lower benches, leaving N'gombe 
Brown and his outfit to camp indefinitely until we 
needed him for the return journey. 

The whole lay of the land hereabout is, roughly 
speaking, in a series of shelves. Back of us were the 
high mountains — the Fourth Bench; we had been 
travelling on the plateau of the Loieta — the Third 
Bench; now we were to penetrate some apparently 
low hills down an unexpected thousand feet to the 
Second Bench. This was smaller; perhaps only five 
miles at its widest. Its outer rim consisted also of 
low hills concealing a drop of precipitous cliffs. 
There were no passes nor caiions here — the streams 

296 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

dropped over in waterfalls — and precarious game 
trails offered the only chance for descent. The 
First Bench was a mere ledge, a mile or so wide. 
From it one looked down into the deep gorge of the 
Southern Guaso Nyero, and across to a tangle of 
eroded mountains and malpais that filled the eye. 
Only away in an incredible distance were other blue 
mountains that marked the farther side of the great 
Rift Valley. 

Our present task was to drop from the Third 
Bench to the Second. For some distance we fol- 
lowed the Narossara; then, when it began to drop 
into its tremendous gorge, we continued along the 
side hills above it until by means of various "hogs' 
backs" and tributary caiions we were able to regain 
its level far below. The going was rough and stony, 
and hard on the porters; but the scenery was very 
wild and fine. We met the river bottom again in 
the pleasantest oval meadow with fine big trees. 
The mountains quite surrounded us, towering im- 
minent above our heads. Ahead of us the stream 
broke through between portals that rose the full 
height of the ranges. We followed it, and found 
ourselves on the Second Bench. 

Here was grass, high grass in which the boys were 
almost lost to sight. Behind us the ramparts rose 
sheer and high; and over across the way were some 

297 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

low fifty-foot cliffs that marked a plateau land. 
Between the plateau and the ranges from which we 
had descended was a sort of slight flat valley through 
which meandered the forest trees that marked the 
stream. 

We turned to the right and marched an hour. 
The river gradually approached the plateau, so 
leaving between it and the ramparts a considerable 
plain, and some low foothills. These latter were 
reported to be one of the feeding grounds of the 
greater kudu. 

We made a most delightful camp at the edge of 
great trees by the stream. The water flowed at the 
bottom of a little ravine, precipitous in most places; 
but with gently sloping banks at the spot we had 
chosen. It flowed rapidly over clean gravel, with 
a hurrying, tinkling sound. A broad gravel beach 
was spread on the hither side of it, like a spacious 
secret room in the jungle. Here too was a little 
slope on which to sit, with the thicket all about, 
the clean, swift little stream below, the high 
forest arches above, and the inquisitive smaller 
creatures hovering near. Others had been here 
before us, the wild things, taking advantage of the 
easy descent to drinking water — eland, buffalo, 
leopard, and small bucks. The air was almost cloy- 
ingly sweet with a perfume like sage-brush honey. 

298 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

Our first task was to set our boys to work clearing 
a space; the grass was so high and rank that mere 
trampling had little effect on it. The Baganda, 
Sabakaki, we had been compelled to leave with the 
ox-team. So our twenty-seven had become twenty- 
six. 

Next morning Cuninghame and I started out very 
early with one gunbearer. The direction of the wind 
compelled us to a two hours' walk before we could be- 
gin to hunt. The high grass was soaked with a very 
heavy dew, and shortly we were as wet as though 
we had fallen into the river. A number of horn- 
bills and parrots followed us for some distance, but 
soon left us in peace. We saw the Roberts' gazelle 
and some hartebeeste. 

When we had gained a point of vantage, we turned 
back and began to work slowly along the base of 
the mountains. We kept on a general level a hun- 
dred feet or so up their slope, just high enough to 
give us a point of overlook for anything that might 
stir either in the flat plateau foothills or the plains. 
We also kept a sharp lookout for signs. 

We had proceeded in this manner for an hour 
when in an opening between two bushes below us, 
and perhaps five hundred yards away we saw a 
leopard standing like a statue, head up, a most 
beautiful spectacle. While we watched her through 

299 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

the glasses, she suddenly dropped flat out of sight. 
The cause we discovered to be three hartebeeste 
strolling sociably along, stopping occasionally to 
snatch a mouthful; but headed always in the direc- 
tion of the bushes behind which lay the great cat. 
Much interested, we watched them. They dis- 
appeared behind the screen. A sudden flash marked 
the leopard's spring. Two badly demoralized harte- i 
beeste stampeded out into the open and away; two 
only. The kill had been made. 

We had but the one rifle with us, for we were 
supposed to be out after kudu only, and were 
travelling as light as possible. No doubt the Spring- 
field would kill a leopard, if the bullet landed in the 
right place. We discussed the matter. It ended, 
of course, in our sneaking down there; I with the 
Springfield, and Cuninghame with his knife un- 
sheathed. Our precautions and trepidations were 
wasted. The leopard had carried the hartebeeste 
bodily some distance, had thrust it under a bush, and 
had departed. Cuninghame surmised it would return 
toward evening. 

Therefore we continued after kudu. We found ^j 
old signs, proving that the beasts visited this country, 'I 
but nothing fresh. We saw, however, the first sing- 
sing; some impalla, some klipspringer, and Chan- 
ler's reed buck. 

300 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

At evening we made a crafty sneak atop the mesa- 
like foothills to a point overlooking the leopard's 
kill. We lay here looking the place over inch by 
inch through our glasses, when an ejaculation of 
disgust from Kongoni called our attention. There 
at another spot that confounded beast sat like a 
house cat watching us cynically. Either we had 
come too soon, or she had heard us and retired to 
what she considered a safe distance. There was of 
course no chance of getting nearer; so I sat down, 
for a steadier hold, and tried her anyway. At the 
shot she leaped high in the air, rolled over once, 
then recovered her feet and streaked off at full speed. 
Just before disappearing over a slight rise, she 
stopped to look back. I tried her again. We con- 
cluded this shot a miss, as the distance and light 
were such that only sheer luck could have landed 
the bullet. However, that luck was with us. Later 
developments showed that both shots had hit. 
One cut a foreleg, but without breaking a bone, and 
the other had hit the paunch. One was at 380 
paces and the other at 490. 

We found blood on the trail; and followed it a 
hundred yards and over a small ridge to a wide 
patch of high grass. It was now dark; the grass 
was very high; and the animal probably desperate. 
The situation did not look good to us, badly armed 

301 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

as we were. So we returned to camp, resolved to 
take up the trail again in the morning. 

Every man in camp turned out next day to help 
beat the grass. Cuninghame with the .405, stayed to 
direct and protect the men; while I, with the Spring- 
field, sat down at the head of the ravine. Soon I could 
hear the shrieks, rattles, shouts, and whistles of the 
line of men as they beat through the grass. Small 
grass bucks and hares bounded past me; birds came 
whirring by. I sat on a little anthill spying as hard 
as I could in all directions. Suddenly the beaters 
fell to dead silence. Guessing this as a signal to 
me that the beast had been seen, I ran to climb a 
higher anthill to the left. From there I discerned 
the animal plainly, sneaking along belly to earth, 
exactly in the manner of a cat after a sparrow. It 
was not a woods-leopard; but the plains-leopard, or 
cheetah, supposed to be a comparatively harmless 
beast. 

At my shot she gave one spring forward and 
rolled over into the grass. The nearest porters 
yelled, and rushed in. I ran too, as fast as I could, 
but was not able to make myself heard above the 
row. An instant later the beast came to its feet 
with a savage growl and charged the nearest of the 
men. She was crippled, and could not move as 
quickly as usual, but could hobble along faster than 

302 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

her intended victim could run. This was a tall and 
very conceited Kavirondo. He fled; but ran around 
in circles, in and out among his excited companions. 
The cheetah followed him, and him only, with most 
single-minded purpose. 

I dared not shoot while men were in the line of 
fire even on the other side of the cheetah, for I knew 
the high-power bullet would at that range go right 
on through; and I fairly split my throat trying to 
clear the way. It seemed five minutes, though it 
was probably only as many seconds, before I got 
my chance. It was high time. The cheetah had 
reared to strike the man down.* My shot bowled 
her over. She jumped to her feet again, made 
another dash at thoroughly scared Kavirondo, and 
I killed her just at his coattails. 

The cheetahs ordinarily are supposed to be cow- 
ards, although their size and power are equal to 
that of other leopards. Nobody is afraid of them. 
Yet this particular animal charged with all the 
ferocity and determination of the lion; and would 
certainly have killed or badly mauled my man.t 
To be sure it had been wounded; and had had all 
night to think about it. 



*This is an Interesting fact — that she reared to strike instead of springing. 
tit must be remembered that this beast had the evening before killed a 
3SO-pound hartebeeste with ease. 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

In the relief from the tension we all burst into 
shrieks of laughter; all except the near-victim of 
the scrimmage, who managed only a sickly smile. 
Our mirth was short. Out from a thicket over a 
hundred yards away walked one of the men who 
had been in no way involved in the fight, calmly 
announcing that he had been shot. We were skep- 
tical, but he turned his back and showed us the 
bullet hole at the lower edge of the ribs. One of 
my bullets, after passing through the cheetah, had 
ricocheted and picked this poor fellow out from the 
whole of an empty landscape. And this after I had 
delayed my rescue fairly to the point of danger in 
order to avoid all chance of hurting some one! 

We had no means of telling how deeply the bullet 
had penetrated; so we reassured the man, and de- 
tailed two men to assist him back to camp by easy 
stages. He did not seem to be suifering much pain, 
and he had lost little strength. 

At camp, however, we found that the wound was 
deep. Cuninghame generously offered to make a 
forced march in order to get the boy out to a hos- 
pital. By hitting directly across the rough country 
below the benches it was possible to shorten the 
journey somewhat, provided V. could persuade the 
Masai to furnish a guide. The country was a desert, 
and the water scarce. We lined up our remaining 

304 




The Valley of Lengeetoto 





Cheetah 




Our camp at the Narossara 




Our camp in Lengeetoto 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

twenty-five men and selected the twelve best and 
strongest. These we offered a month and a half's 
extra wages for the trip. We then made a hammock 
out of one of the ground cloths, and the same after- 
noon Cuninghame started. I sent with him four of 
my own men as far as the ox-wagon for the purpose 
of bringing back more potio. They returned the 
next afternoon, bringing also a report from Cuning- 
hame that all was well so far, and that he had seen 
a lion. He made the desert trip without other casu- 
alty than the loss of his riding mule; and landed the 
wounded man in the hospital all right. In spite of 
Cuninghame's expert care on the journey out, and 
the best of treatment later, the boy, to my great 
distress, died eleven days after reaching the hospital. 
Cuninghame was gone just two weeks. 

In the meantime I sent out my best trackers in 
all directions to look for kudu signs, conceiving this 
the best method of covering the country rapidly. 
In this manner I shortly determined that chances 
were small here; and made up my mind to move 
down to the edge of the bench where the Narossara 
makes its plunge. Before doing so, however, I 
hunted for and killed a very large eland bull reported 
by Mavrouki. This beast was not only one of the 
largest I ever saw, but was in especially fine coat. 
He stood five feet and six inches high at the shoulder; 

30s 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

was nine feet eight inches long, without the tail; 
and would weigh twenty-five hundred pounds. The 
men were delighted with this acquisition. I now had 
thirteen porters, the three gunbearers, the cook, and 
the two boys. They surrounded each tiny fire with 
switches full of roasting meat; they cut off great 
hunks for a stew; they made quantities of biltong, 
or jerky. 

Next day I left Kongoni and one porter at the old 
camp, loaded my men with what they could carry, 
and started out. We marched a little over two 
hours; then found ourselves beneath a lone mimosa 
tree about a quarter mile from the edge of the bench. 
At this point the stream drops into a little caiion 
preparatory to its plunge; and the plateau rises 
ever so gently to tremendous cliffs. I immediately 
dispatched the porters back for another load. A 
fine sing-sing lured me across the river. I did not 
get the sing sing; but had a good fight with two 
lions, as narrated elsewhere.* 

In this spot we camped a number of days; did a 
heap of hard climbing and looking; killed another 
lion out of a band of eight ;f thoroughly determined 
that we had come at the wrong time for kudu; and 
decided on another move. 



*"The Land of Footprints." 
t" The Land of Footprints." 

306 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

This time our journey lasted five hours, so that 
our relaying consumed three days. We broke back 
through the ramparts, by means of another pass we 
had discovered when looking for kudu, to the Third 
Bench again. Here we camped in the valley of 
Lengetoto. 

This valley is one of tne most beautiful and 
secluded in this part of Africa. It is shaped like an 
ellipse, five or six miles long by about three miles 
wide; and is completely surrounded by mountains. 
The ramparts of the western side — those forming 
the walls of the Fourth Bench — rise in sheer rock 
cliffs, forest crowned. To the east, from which 
direction we had just come, were high, rounded 
mountains. At sunrise they cut clear in an outline 
of milky slate against the sky. 

The floor of this ellipse was surfaced in gentle 
undulations, like the low swells of a summer sea. 
Between each swell a singing, clear-watered brook 
leaped and dashed or loitered through its jungle. 
Into the mountains ran broad upward flung valleys 
of green grass; and groves of great forest trees 
marched down cafions and out a short distance into 
the plains. Everything was fresh and green and 
cool. We needed blankets at night, and each morn- 
ing the dew was cool and sparkling, and the sky very 
blue. Underneath the forest trees of the stream 

307 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

beds, and the canon, were leafy rooms as small as 
a closet, or great cathedral aisles. And in the short 
brush dwelt rhinoceros and impalla; in the jungles 
were buffalo and elephant; on the plains we saw 
giraffe, hartebeeste, zebra, duiker; and in the bases 
of the hills we heard at evening and early morning 
the roaring of lions. 

In this charming spot we lingered eight days; 
Memba Sasa and I spent most of our time trying 
to get one of the jungle-dwelling buffalo without his 
getting us. In this we were finally successful.* 
Then, as it was about time for Cuninghame to return, 
we moved back to V.'s boma on the Narossara; relay- 
ing, as usual, the carrying of our effects. At this time 
I had had to lay off three more men on account of 
various sorts of illness, so was still more cramped 
for transportation facilities. As we were breaking 
camp a lioness leaped to her feet from where she had 
been lying under a bush. So near was it to camp 
that I had not my rifle ready. She must have been 
lying there within two hundred yards of our tents, 
watching all our activities. 

We drew in to V.'s boma a little after two o'clock. 
The man in charge of our tent did not put in an 
appearance until next day. Fortunately V. had an 
extra tent, which he lent us. We camped near the 

*" The Land of Footprints." 

308 



THE LOWER BENCHES 

river, just outside the edge of the river forest. The 
big trees sent their branches out over us very far 
above, while a winding path led us to the banks 
of the river where was a dingle like an inner room. 
After dark we sat with V. at our little campfire. 
It was all very beautiful — the skyful of tropical 
stars, the silhouette of the forest shutting them out, 
the velvet blackness of the jungle flickering with 
fireflies, the purer outlines of the hilltops and dis- 
tant mountains to the left, the porters' tiny fires 
before the little white tents; and in the distance, 
from the direction of V.'s boma, the irregular throb 
of the dance drum and the occasional snatch of 
barbaric singing borne down on the night wind 
from where his Wakambas were holding an n^goma, 
A pair of ibis that had been ejected when we made 
camp contributed intermittent outraged and raucous 
squawks from the tiptop of some neighbouring tree. 



309 



XXXIX 
NOTES ON THE MASAI 

IT IS in no way my intention to attempt a com- 
prehensive description of this unique people. 
My personal observation is, of course, inadequate 
to that task, and the numerous careful works on 
the subject are available to the interested reader. 

The southern branch of the race, among whom 
we were now travelling, are very fine physically. 
Men close to seven feet in height are not at all 
uncommon, and the average is well above six. They 
are strongly and lithely made. Their skins are a 
red-brown or bronze, generally brought to a high 
state of polish by liberal anointing. In feature 
they resemble more the Egyptian or Abyssinian than 
the negro cast of countenance. The women are tall 
and well formed, with proud, quaintly quizzical 
faces. Their expressions and demeanour seem to 
indicate more independence and initiative than is 
usual with most savage women, but whether this is 
actually so or not, I cannot say. 

On this imposing and pleasing physical foundation 

310 




o 







> 

en 
13 



NOTES ON THE MASAI 

your true Masai is content to build a very slight 
superstructure of ornament. His ear-lobes are al- 
ways stretched to hang down in long loops, in which 
small medals, ornaments, decorated blocks of wood, 
or the like, are inserted. Long heavy ovals of 
ivory, grooved to accommodate the flesh loop, very 
finely etched in decorative designs, are occasionally 
worn as "stretchers." Around the neck is a slender 
iron collar, and on the arms are one or two glittering 
bracelets. The sword belt is of leather heavily 
beaded, with a short dangling fringe of steel beads. 
Through this the short blade is thrust. When in 
full-dress the warrior further sports on a garter a hol- 
low iron knee bell, connected with the belt by a string 
of cowrie shells or beads. Often is added a curious 
triangular strip of skin fitting over the chest, and 
reaching about to the waist. A robe or short cloak 
of short-haired sheepskin is sometimes carried for 
warmth, but not at all for modesty. The weapons 
are a long narrow bladed heavy spear, the buffalo 
hide shield, the short sword, and the war club or 
runga. The women are always shaven-headed, wear 
voluminous robes of soft leather; and carry a great 
weight of heavy wire wound into anklets and stock- 
ings, and brought to a high state of polish. So 
extensive are these decorations that they really form 
a sort of armour, with breaks only for the elbow and 

3" 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

the knee joints. The married women wear also a 
great outstanding collar. 

The Masai are pastoral, and keep immense herds 
and flocks. Therefore they inhabit the grazing 
countries; and are nomadic. Their villages are in- 
variably arranged in a wide circle, the low huts of 
mud and wattles facing in. The spaces between the 
huts are filled in with thick dense thorn brush, thus 
enclosing a strong corral, or boma. These villages 
are called manyattas. They are built by the women 
in an incredibly brief space of time. Indeed, an 
overchief stopping two days at one place had been 
known to cause the construction of a complete vil- 
lage, to serve only for that period. He then moved 
on, and the manyatta was never used again! Never- 
theless these low rounded huts, in shape like a loaf 
of bread, give a fictitious impression of great strength 
and permanency. The smooth and hardened mud 
resembles masonry or concrete work. As a matter 
of fact it is the thinnest sort of a shell over plaited 
withes. The single entrance to this compound may 
be closed by thorn bush so that at night, when the 
lions are abroad, the Masai and all his herds dwell 
quite peaceably and safely inside the boma. Twelve 
to twenty huts constitute a village. 

When the grass is fed down the village moves 
to a new location. There is some regulation to this, 

312 



NOTES ON THE MASAI 

determined by the overchiefs, so that one village 
does not interfere with another. Beside the few 
articles of value or of domestic use, the only things 
carried away from an old village are the strongly 
woven shield-shaped doors. These are strapped 
along the flanks of the donkeys, while the other 
goods rest between. A donkey pack, Masai fashion, 
is a marvellous affair that would not stay on ten 
minutes for a white man. 

The Masai perform no agriculture whatever, 
nor will they eat game meat. They have no de- 
sire for any of the white man's provisions except 
sugar. In fact their sole habitual diet is mixed 
cow's blood and milk — no fruits, no vegetables, 
no grains, rarely flesh; a striking commentary 
on extreme vegetarian claims. The blood they 
obtain by shooting a very sharp-pointed arrow 
into a neck vein of the cow. After the requisite 
amount has been drained, the wound is closed 
and the animal turned into the herd to recuper- 
ate. The blood and milk are then shaken together 
in long gourds. Certainly the race seems to 
thrive on this strange diet. Only rarely, on 
ceremonial occasions or when transportation is 
difficult, do they eat mutton or goat flesh, but 
never beef. 

Of labour then, about a Masai village, it follows 

313 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

that there is practically none. The women build 
the manyattas; there is no cooking, no tilling of the 
soil, no searching for wild fruits. The herds have 
to be watched by day and driven in at the fall of 
night; that is the task of the boys and the youths 
who have not gone through with the quadriennial 
circumcision ceremonies and become El-morani, or 
warriors. Therefore the grown men are absolutely 
and completely gentlemen of leisure. In civilization, 
the less men do the more important they are in- 
clined to think themselves. It is so here. Socially 
the Masai consider themselves several cuts above 
anybody else in the country. As social superiority 
lies mostly in thinking so hard enough — so that the 
inner belief expresses itself in the outward attitude 
and manner — the Masai carry it off. Their haugh- 
tiness is magnificent. Also they can look as unsmil- 
ing and bored as anybody anywhere. Consequently 
they are either greatly admired; or greatly hated 
and feared, as the case happens to be, by all the 
other tribes. The Kikuyu young men frankly ape 
the customs and ornaments of their powerful neigh- 
bours. Even the British Government treats them 
very gingerly indeed, and allows these economically 
useless savages a latitude the more agricultural 
tribes do not enjoy. Yet I submit that any people 
whose property is in immense herds can more easily 

314 






'^:XX 



^!y'ir'^4^/S'^^l^.^^^^^'t% 







They visited camp freely, and would sit down for a good 
lively afternoon of joking" 



NOTES ON THE MASAI 

be brought to terms than those who have nothing 
so valuable to lose. 

As a matter of fact it is said the white man and 
the Masai have never had it out. When the English, 
a few years since, were engaged in opening the country 
they carried on quite a stoutly contested little war 
with the Wakamba. These people put up so good 
a fight that the English anticipated a most bitter 
struggle with the Masai, whose territory lay next 
beyond. To their surprise the Masai made peace. 

"We have watched the war with the Wakamba," 
they said, in effect, "and we have seen the Wakamba 
kill a great many of your men. But more of your 
men came in always; and there were no more Wa- 
kamba to come in and take the places of those who 
were killed. We are not afraid. If we should war 
with you, we would undoubtedly kill a great many of 
you, and you would undoubtedly kill a great many of 
us. But there can be no use in that. We want the 
ranges for our cattle; you want a road. Let us, then, 
agree." 

The result is that to-day the Masai look upon 
themselves as an unconquered people, and bear 
themselves — toward the other tribes — accordingly. 
The shrewd common sense and observation evi- 
denced above must have convinced them that war 
now would be hopeless. 

3 IS 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

This acute intelligence is not at all incompatible 
with the rather bigoted and narrow outlook on 
life inevitable to a people whose ideals are made up 
of fancied superiorities over the rest of mankind. 
Witness, the feudal aristocracies of the Middle Ages. 

With this type the underlying theory of masculine 
activity is the military. Some outlet for energy was 
needed, and in war it was found. Even the ordinary 
necessities of primitive agriculture and of the chase 
were lacking. The Masai eats neither vegetable, 
grain, nor wild game. The whole of young manhood, 
then, can be spent in no better occupation than the 
pursuit of warlike glory — and cows. 

On this rests the peculiar social structure of the 
people. In perusing the following fragmentary ac- 
count the reader must first of all divest his mind of 
what he would, according to white man's standards, 
consider moral or immoral. Such things must be 
viewed from the standpoint of the people believing 
in them. The Masai are moral in the sense that 
they very rigorously live up to their own customs 
and creeds. Their women are strictly chaste in the 
sense that they conduct no affairs outside those 
permitted within the tribe. No doubt, from the 
Masai point of view, we are ourselves immoral. 

The small boy, as soon as he is big enough to be 
responsible — and that is very early in life — is 

316 



NOTES ON THE MASAI 

given, in company with others, charge of a flock 
of sheep. Thence he graduates to the precious herds 
of cows. He wears little or nothing, is armed with 
a throwing club, a long stick; or perhaps later a 
broad-bladed, short-headed spear of a pattern pe- 
culiar to boys and young men. His life is thus over 
the free open hills and veldt, until, somewhere be- 
tween the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, the year 
of the circumcision comes. Then he enters on the 
long ceremonies that initiate him into the warrior 
class. My knowledge of the details of this subject 
is limited; for while I had the luck to be in Masailand 
on the fourth year, such things are not exhibited 
freely. The curious reader can find more on the 
subject in other books; but as this is confined to 
personal experiences I will tell only what I have 
myself elicited. 

The youth's shaved head is allowed to grow its 
hair. He hangs around his brow a dangling string 
of bright-coloured bird skins stuffed out in the shape 
of little cylinders, so that at a short distance they 
look like curls. For something like a month of 
probation he wears these; then undergoes the rite. 
For ten days thereafter he and his companions, their 
heads daubed with clay and ashes, clad in long 
black robes, live out in the brush. They have no 
provision, but are privileged to steal what they need. 

317 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

At the end of the ten days they return to the man- 
yattas, A three-day n^goma, or dance, now com- 
pletes their transformation to the El-morani class. 
It finishes by an obscene night dance, in the course 
of which the new warriors select their partners. 

For ten or twelve years these young men are El- 
morani. They dwell in a separate manyatta. With 
them dwell promiscuously all the young unmarried 
women of the tribe. There is no permanent pairing 
off, no individual property, no marriage. Nor does 
this constitute flagrant immorality, difficult as it may 
be for us to see that fact. The institution, like all 
national institutions, must have had its origin in a 
very real need and a very practical expediency. 
The fighting strength of the tribe must be kept up, 
and by the young and vigorous stock. On the other 
hand, every man of military age must be foot free 
to serve in the constant wars and forays. This 
institution is the means. And, mind you, unchastity 
in the form of illicit intercourse outside the manyatta 
of the El-morani, whether with her own or another 
tribe, subjects the women to instant death. 

The El-morani in full fighting rig are imposing. 
They are, as I have explained, tall and of fine phy- 
sique. The cherished and prized weapon is the 
long, narrow-bladed spear. This is five and six feet 
long, with a blade over three feet by as many inches, 

318 



NOTES ON THE MASAl 

and with a long, iron shoe. In fact, only a bare hand- 
hold of wood is provided. It is of formidable weight, 
but so well balanced that a flip cast with the wrist 
will drive it clear through an emeny. A short sword 
and a heavy headed war club complete the offensive 
weapons. The shield is of buffalo hide, oval in shape, 
and decorated with a genuine heraldry, based on 
genealogy. A circlet of black ostrich feathers in 
some branches surrounds the face and stands high 
above the head. In the southern districts the 
warriors wear two single black ostrich plumes tied 
one either side the head, and slanting a little back- 
ward. They walk with a mincing step so that the 
two feathers bob gently up and down like the waving 
of the circus equestrienne's filmy skirts. 

Naturally the Masai with the Zulu were the most 
dreaded of all the tribes of Africa. They were 
constantly raiding in all directions as far as their 
sphere of operations could reach, capturing cattle 
and women as the prizes of war. Now that the 
white man has put a stop to the ferocious intertribal 
wars the El-morani are out of a job. The military 
organization is still carried on as before. What will 
happen to the morals of the people it would be 
difficult to say. The twelve years of imposed peace 
have not been long enough seriously to deteriorate 
the people; but, inevitably, complete idleness will 

319 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

tell. Either the people must change their ideals and 
become industrious — which is extremely unlikely — - 
or they will degenerate. 

As a passing thought, it is a curious and for- 
midable fact that the prohibition of intertribal 
wars and forays all through East Central Africa 
has already permitted the population to increase 
to a point of discomfort. Many of the districts are 
becoming so crowded as to overflow. What will 
happen in the long run only time can tell — famine 
and pestilence probably. Only famine and pestilence 
are weakening things; while war at least hardens a 
nation's fibre. This is not necessarily an argument 
for war. Only everywhere in the world the white 
man seems with the best of intentions to be upsetting 
natural balances without substituting for them. We 
are better at preventing things than causing them. 

At the age of thirty, or thereabout, the El- 
morani becomes an Elder. He may now drink and 
smoke, vices that in the Spartan days of his military 
service were rigourously denied him. He may also 
take a wife or wives, according to his means, and 
keep herds of cattle. His wives he purchases from 
their parents, the usual medium of payment being 
cows or sheep. The young women who have been 
living in the El-morani village are considered quite 
as desirable as the young virgins. If there are 

320 



NOTES ON THE MASAI 

children, these are taken over by the husband. 
They are considered rather a recommendation than 
a detriment, for they prove the girl is fruitful. 

Relieved of all responsibility the ex-warrior now 
has full leisure to be a gentleman. He drinks a 
fermented liquor made from milk; he takes snuff or 
smokes the rank native tobacco; he conducts inter- 
minable diplomatic negotiations; he oversees mi- 
nutely the forms of ceremonials; he helps shape the 
policies of his manyatta, and he gives his attention 
to the accumulation of cows. 

The cow is the one thing that arouses the Masai's 
full energies. He will undertake any journey, any 
task, any danger, provided the reward therefor is 
horned cattle. And a cow is the one thing he will 
on no account trade, sell or destroy. A very few 
of them he milks, and a very few of them he period- 
ically bleeds; but the majority, to the numbers of 
thousands upon thousands, live uselessly until they 
die of old age. They are branded, generally on the 
flanks or ribs, with strange large brands, and are 
so constantly handled that they are tamer and more 
gentle than sheep. I have seen upward of a thou- 
sand head in sole charge of two old women on foot. 
These ancient dames drove the beasts in a long 
file to water, then turned them quite easily and 
drove them back again. Opposite our camp they 

321 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

halted their charges and came to make us a long 
visit. The cattle stood in their tracks until the call 
was over; not one offered even to stray off the baked 
earth in search of grasses. 

The Masai cattle king knows his property individ- 
ually. Each beast has its name. Some of the 
wealthier are worth in cattle, at settler's prices, 
close to a hundred thousand dollars. They are men 
of importance in their own council huts, but they 
lack many things dear to the savage heart simply 
because they are unwilling to part with a single 
head of stock in order to procure them. 

In the old days forays and raids tended more or 
less to keep the stock down. Since the White Man's 
Peace the herds are increasing. In the country be- 
tween the Mau Escarpment and the Narossara 
Mountains we found the feed eaten down to the 
earth two months before the next rainy season. 
In the meantime the few settlers are hard put to 
it to buy cattle at any price wherewith to stock 
their new farms. The situation is an anomaly which 
probably cannot continue. Some check will have 
eventually to be devised, either limiting the cattle, 
or compelling an equitable sale of the surplus. Cer- 
tainly the present situation represents a sad economic 
waste — of the energies of a fine race destined to 
rust away, and of the lives of tens of thousands of 

322 



NOTES ON THE MASAI 

valuable beasts brought into existence only to die 
of old age. If these matchless herders and cattle 
breeders could be brought into relation with the 
world's markets everybody would be the better. 

Beside his sacred cattle the Masai raises also 
lesser herds of the hairy sheep of the country. 
These he uses for himself only on the rare occasions 
of solitary forced marches away from his herds, or 
at the times of ceremony. Their real use is as a 
trading medium — for more cattle 1 Certain white 
men and Somalis conduct regular trading expeditions 
into Masailand, bringing in small herds of cows 
bought with trade goods from the other tribes. These 
they barter with the Masai for sheep. In Masai 
estimation a cow is the most valuable thing on 
earth, while a sheep is only a medium of exchange. 
With such notions it is easy to see that the white 
man can make an advantageous exchange, in spite 
of the Masai's well-known shrewdness at a bargain. 
Each side is satisfied. There remains only to find 
a market for the sheep — an easy matter. A small 
herd of cows will in the long run bring quite a decent 
profit. 

The Masai has very little use for white man's 
products. He will trade for squares of cloth, beads 
of certain kinds and in a limited quantity, brass and 
iron wire of heavy gauge, blankets and sugar. That, 

323 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

barring occasional personal idiosyncrasy, is about all. 
For these things he will pay also in sheep. Masai 
curios are particularly difficult to get hold of. I 
rather like them for their independence in that 
respect. I certainly should refuse to sell my tennis 
shoes from my feet merely because some casual 
Chinaman happened to admire them! 

The women seem to occupy a position quite satis- 
factory to themselves. To be sure they do the work; 
but there is not much work! They appear to be 
well treated; at least they are always in good spirits, 
laughing and joking with each other, and always 
ready with quick repartee to remarks flung at them 
by the safari boys. They visited camp freely, and 
would sit down for a good lively afternoon of joking. 
Their expressions were quizzical with a sly intelli- 
gent humour. In spite of the apparent unabashed 
freedom of their deportment they always behaved 
with the utmost circumspection; nor did our boys 
ever attempt any familiarity. The unobtrusive 
lounging presence in the background of two warriors 
with long spears may have had something to do 
with this. 

The Masai government is centred in an overlord 
or king. His orders seem to be implicitly obeyed. 
The present king I do not know, as the old king, 
Lenani, has just died at an advanced age. In 

324 




Warriors 





"The southern branch of the race — are very fine physically" 




Masai men and women 




"In the southern districts the warriors wear tv>^o single 
black ostrich feathers" 



NOTES ON THE MASAI 

former days the traveller on entering Masailand 
was met by a sub-chief. This man planted his 
long spear upright in the ground, and the intending 
traveller flung over it coils of the heavy wire. A 
very generous traveller who completely covered the 
spear then had no more trouble. One less lavish 
was likely to be held up for further impositions as 
he penetrated the country. This tax was called the 
honga. 

The Masai language is one of the most difficult of 
all the native tongues. In fact, the white man is 
almost completely unable even to pronounce many 
of the words. V., who is a " Masai-man " who knows 
them intimately, and who possesses their confidence, 
does not pretend to talk with them in their own 
tongue, but employs the universal Swahili. 



325 



XL 
THROUGH THE ENCHANTED FOREST 

WE waited at V.'s boma three days, waiting for 
Cuninghame to turn up. He maintained a 
little force of Wakamba, as the Masai would not take 
service. The Wakamba are a hunting tribe, using both 
the spear and the poisoned arrow to kill their game. 
Their bows are short and powerful, and the arrows ex- 
ceedingly well fashioned. The poison is made from 
the wood of a certain fat tree with fruit like gigantic 
bologna sausages. It is cut fine, boiled, and the 
product evaporated away until only a black sticky 
substance remains. Into this the point of the arrow 
is dipped; and the head is then protected until 
required by a narrow strip of buckskin wound around 
and around it. I have never witnessed the eifects 
of this poison; but V. told me he had seen an eland 
die in twenty-two minutes from so slight a wound in 
the shoulder that it ran barely a hundred yards 
before stopping. The poison more or less loses its 
efficiency, however, after the sticky tarlike substance 
has dried out. 

326 



THROUGH THE ENCHANTED FOREST 

I offered a half rupee as a prize for an archery 
competition, for I was curious to get a line on their 
marksmanship. The bull's-eye was a piece of 
typewriter paper* at thirty paces. This they 
managed to puncture only once out of fifteen tries; 
though they never missed it very widely. V. seemed 
quite put out at this poor showing, so I suppose 
they can ordinarily do better; but I imagine they 
are a good deal like our hunting Indians, poor shots 
but very skilful at stalking close to a beast. 

Our missing porter, with the tent, was brought in 
next afternoon by Kongoni, who had gone in search 
of him. The man was a big, strong Kavirondo. He 
was sullen, and merely explained that he was "tired." 
This excuse for a five hours' march after eight days' 
rest! I fined him eight rupees, which I gave Kongoni 
and ordered him twenty-five lashes. Six weeks later 
he did the same trick. Cuninghame alotted him fifty 
lashes and had him led thereafter by a short rope 
around the neck. He was probably addicted to 
opium. This was the only man to be formally kiho- 
koed on the whole trip — a good testimony at once 
to Cuninghame's management, the discrimination we 
had used in picking them out, and the settled reputa- 
tions we had by now acquired. 

After Cuninghame's return we prepared to pene- 

*8xio^ inches. 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

trate straight back through the great rampart of 
mountains to the south and west. 

We crossed the bush-grown plains, and entered a 
gently rising long canon flanked on either side by- 
towering ranges that grew higher and higher the 
farther we proceeded. In the very centre of the 
mountains, apparently, this cafion ended in a small 
round valley. There appeared to be no possible 
exit, save by the way we had come, or over the 
almost perpendicular ridges a thousand feet or 
more above. Nevertheless we discovered a narrow 
ravine that slanted up into the hills to the left. 
Following it we found ourselves very shortly in a 
great forest on the side of a mountain. Hanging 
creepers brushed our faces, tangled vines hung 
across our view, strange and unexpected openings 
offered themselves as a means through which we 
could see a little closer into the heart of mystery. 
The air was cool and damp and dark. The occasional 
shafts of sunlight or glimpses of blue sky served 
merely to accentuate the soft gloom. Save that we 
climbed always, we could not tell where we were going. 

The ascent occupied a little over an hour. Then 
through the tree trunks and undergrowth we caught 
the skyline of the crest. When we topped this we 
took a breath, and prepared ourselves for a cor- 
responding descent. But in a hundred yards we 

328 



THROUGH THE ENCHANTED FOREST 

popped out of the forest to find ourselves on a new 
level. The Fourth Bench had been attained. 

It was a grass country of many low, rounded hills 
and dipping valleys, with fine isolated oaklike trees 
here and there in the depressions, and compact, 
beautiful oaklike groves thrown over the hills like 
blankets. Well-kept, green, trim, intimate, it should 
have had church spires and gray roofs in appropri- 
ate spots. It was a refreshment to the eye after 
the great and austere spaces among which we had 
been dwelling, a repose to the spirit after the alert 
and dangerous lands. The dark curtained forest 
seemed, fancifully, an enchantment through which 
we had gained to this remote smiling land, nearest 
of all to the blue sky. 

We continued south for two days; and then, as 
the narrative will show, were forced to return. We 
found it always the same type; pleasant sleepy little 
valleys winding around and between low hills 
crowned with soft groves and forests. It was for 
all the world like northern Surrey, or like some of 
the liveoak country of California. Only this we 
soon discovered: in spite of the enchantment of the 
magic-protecting forest, the upper benches, too, were 
subject to the spell that lies over all Africa. These 
apparently little valleys were in reality the matter 
of an hour's journey to cross; these rounded hills, 

329 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

to all seeming only two good golf strokes from 
bottom to top, were matters of serious climbing; 
these compact, squared groves of oaklike trees were 
actually great forests of giants in which one could 
lose one's self for days, in which roamed herds of 
elephant and buffalo. It looked compact because 
we could see all its constituent elements. As a 
matter of fact, it was neat and tidy; only we were, as 
usual, too small for it. 

At the end of two hours' fast marching we had 
made the distance, say, from the clubhouse to the 
second hole. Then we camped in a genuinely little 
grove of really small trees overlooking a green valley 
bordered with wooded hills. The prospect was 
indescribably delightful; a sort of Sunday-morning 
landscape of groves and green grass and a feeling of 
church bells. 

Only down the valley, diminished by distance, 
all afternoon Masai warriors, in twos and threes, 
trooped by, mincing along so that their two ostrich 
feathers would bob up and down, their spears held 
atrail. 

We began to realize that we were indeed in a new 
country when our noon thermometer registered only 
66, and when at sunrise the following morning it 
stood at 44. To us, after eight months under the 
equator, this was bitter weather! 

330 



XLI 

NAIOKOTUKU 

NEXT morning we marched on up the beautiful 
valley through shoulder-high grasses wet with 
dew. At the end of two hours we came to the 
limit of Leyeye's knowledge of the country. It 
would now be necessary to find savage guides. 

Accordingly, while we made camp, Cuninghame, 
with Leyeye as interpreter, departed in search of a 
Masai village. So tall and rank grew the grass that 
we had to clear it out as one would clear brushwood 
in order to make room for our tents. 

Several hours later Cuninghame returned. He 
had found a very large village, but unfortunately the 
savages were engaged in a big n^goma which could 
not be interrupted by mere business. However, the 
chief was coming to make a friendly call. When the 
fCgoma should be finished, he would be delighted to 
furnish us with anything we might desire. 

Almost on the heels of this the chief arrived. He 
was a fine old savage, over six feet tall, of well 
proportioned figure, and with a shrewd, intelligent 

331 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

face. The n'goma had him, to a limited extent, for 
he stumbled over tent ropes, smiled a bit uncertainly, 
and slumped down rather suddenly when he had 
meant to sit. However, he both stumbled, smiled, 
and slumped with unassailable dignity. 

From beneath his goatskin robe he produced a long 
ornamented gourd from which he offered us a drink of 
fermented milk. He took our refusal good-naturedly. 
The gourd must have held a gallon, but he got 
away with all of its contents in the course of the in- 
terview; also several pints of super-sweetened coffee 
which we doled out to him a little at a time, and 
which he seemed to appreciate extravagantly. 

Through Leyeye we exchanged the compliments of 
the day, and, after the African custom, told each 
other how important we were. Our visitor turned 
out to be none other than the brother of Lenani, the 
paramount chief of all the Masai. I forget what I 
was, either the brother of King George or the nephew 
of Theodore Roosevelt — the only two white men 
every native has heard of. It may be that both of us 
were mistaken, but from his evident authority over 
a very wide district we were inclined to believe our 
visitor. 

We told him we wanted guides through the hills to 
the southward. He promised them in a most 
friendly fashion. 

332 




''The girl in the middle ground has painted her face white 
to indicate travel" 



iS | || 




When moving the villages they take with them only 
the wicker doors 



NAIOKOTUKU 

"I do not know the white man," said he. "I live 
always in these mountains. But my brother Lenani 
told me ten years ago that some day the white man 
would come into my country. My brother told me 
that when the white man came travelling in my 
country I must treat him well, for the white man is 
a good friend but a bad enemy. I have remembered 
my brother Lenani's words, though they were 
spoken a long time ago. The white man has been 
very long in coming; but now he is here. Therefore 
I have brought you milk to-day, and to-morrow I 
will send you sheep ; and later I will send young men 
who know the hills to take you where you wish 
to go." 

We expressed gratification, and I presented him 
with a Marble fish knife. The very thin blade and 
the ingenious manner in which the two halves of 
the handle folded forward over it pleased him im- 
mensely. 

"No one but myself shall ever use this knife," 
said he. 

He had no pockets, but he tucked it away in his 
armpit, clamped the muscles down over it, and 
apparently forgot it. At least he gave it no further 
attention, used his hands as usual, but retained it 
as securely as in a pocket. 

"To-morrow," he promised at parting, "very 

333 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

early in the morning, I will send my own son and 
another man to guide you; and I will send a sheep 
for your meat." 

We arose "very early," packed our few affairs, 
picked out four porters — and sat down to wait. 
Our plan was to cruise for five days with as light and 
mobile an outfit as possible, and then to return for 
fresh supplies. Billy would take charge of the main 
camp during our absence. As advisers, we left her 
Abba Ali, Memba Sasa, and Mohamet. 

At noon we were still waiting. The possibility of 
doing a full day's journey was gone, but we thought 
we might at least make a start. At one o'clock, 
just as we had about given up hope, the Masai 
strolled in. They were beautiful, tall, straight 
youths, finely formed, with proud features and a 
most graceful carriage. In colour they were as 
though made of copper bronze, with the same glitter 
of high lights from their fine-textured skins. Even 
in this chilly climate they were nearly naked. One 
carried a spear; the other a bow and arrow. 

Joyously we uprose — and sat down again. We 
had provided an excellent supply of provisions for 
our guides; but on looking over the lot they dis- 
covered nothing, absolutely nothing, that met their 
ideas. 

" What do they want t " we asked Leyeye in despair. 

334 



NAIOKOTUKU 

"They say they will eat nothing but sheep," he 
reported. 

We remembered old Naiokotuku's promise of 
sending us sheep, sneered cynically at the faith of 
savages, and grimly set forth to see what we could 
buy in the surrounding country. But we wronged 
the old man. Less than a mile from camp we met 
men driving in as presents not one, but two, sheep. 
So we abandoned our shopping tour and returned to 
camp. By the time one of the sheep had been made 
into mutton it was too late to start. The Masai 
showed symptoms of desiring to go back to the 
village for the night. This did not please us. We 
called them up, and began extravagantly to admire 
their weapons, begging to examine them. Once we 
had them in our hands we craftily discoursed as 
follows : 

"These are beautiful weapons, the most beautiful 
we have ever seen. Since you are going to spend 
the night in our camp, and since we greatly fear 
that some of our men might steal these beautiful 
weapons, we will ourselves guard them for you 
carefully from theft until morning." 

So saying, we deposited them inside the tent. 
Then we knew we had our Masai safe. They would 
never dream of leaving while the most cherished of 
their possessions were in hostage. 

335 



XLII 
SCOUTING IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST 

HERE we were finally off at dawn. It was a very 
chilly, wet dawn, with the fog so thick that we 
could see not over ten feet ahead. We had four 
porters carrying about twenty-five pounds apiece of 
the bare necessities, Kongoni, and Leyeye. The 
Masai struck confidently enough through the mist. 
We crossed neck-deep grass flats — where we were 
thoroughly soaked — climbed hills through a forest, 
skirted apparently for miles an immense reed 
swamp. As usual when travelling strange coun- 
try in a fog, we experienced that queer feeling of 
remaining in the same spot while fragments of 
nearby things are slowly paraded by. When at 
length the sun's power cleared the mists, we found 
ourselves in the middle of a forest country of high 
hills. 

Into this forest we now plunged, threading our 
way here and there where the animal trails would 
take us, looking always for fresh elephant spoor. 
It would have been quite impossible to have moved 

336 



SCOUTING IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST 

about in any other fashion. The timber grew on 
side hills, and was very lofty and impressive; and the 
tropical undergrowth grew tall, rank and impene- 
trable. We could proceed only by means of the 
kind assistance of the elephant, the buffalo and the 
rhinoceros. 

Elephant spoor we found, but none made later 
than three weeks before. The trails were broad, 
solid paths through the forest, as ancient and beaten 
as though they had been in continuous use for years. 
Unlike the rhino and buffalo trails, they gave us 
head room and to spare. The great creatures had by 
sheer might cut their way through the dense, tough 
growth, leaving twisted, splintered, wrecked jungle, 
behind them, but no impediment. 

By means of these beautiful trails we sneaked 
quietly, penetrating farther and farther into the 
jungle. Our little procession of ten made no noise. 
If we should strike fresh elephant tracks, thus would 
we hunt them, with all our worldly goods at our 
backs, so that at night we could camp right on the 
trail. 

The day passed almost without incident. Once 
a wild crash and a snort told of a rhinoceros, in- 
visible, but very close. We huddled together, our 
rifles ready, uncertain whether or not the animal 
would burst from the leafy screen at our very faces. 

337 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

The Masai stood side by side, the long spear poised, 
the bow bent, fine, tense figures in bronze. 

Near sundown we found ourselves by a swift little 
stream in the bottom of a deep ravine. Here we 
left the men to make camp, and ourselves climbed a 
big mountain on the other side. It gave us a look 
abroad over a wilderness of hills, forested heavily, 
and a glimpse of the land-fall far away where no 
white man had ever been. This was as far south as 
we were destined to get, though at the time we did 
not know it. Our plan was to push on two days 
more. Near the top of the ridge we found the 
unmistakable tracks of the bongo. This is in- 
teresting to zoologists in that it extends the south- 
ward range of this rare and shy beast. 

Just at dark we regained our camp. It was built 
California fashion — for the first and last time in 
Africa : blankets spread on canvas under the open sky 
and a gipsy fire at our feet, over which I myself 
cooked our very simple meal. As we were smoking 
our pipes in sleepy content, Leyeye and the two 
Masai appeared for a shauri. Said the Masai: 

"We have taken you over the country we know. 
There are elephants there sometimes, but there are 
no elephants there now. We can take you farther, 
and if you wish us to do so, we will do so; but we 
know no more of the country than you do. But 

338 



SCOUTING IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST 

now if we return to the manyatta to-morrow, we can 
march two hours to where are some Wanderobo; 
and the Wanderobo know this country and will take 
you through it. If it pleases you, one of us will go 
get the Wanderobo, and the other will stay with you 
to show good faith." 

We rolled our eyes at each other in humorous 
despair. Here at the very beginning of the recon- 
naissance we had run against the stone wall of 
African indirectness and procrastination. And 
just as we thought we had at last settled every- 
thing ! 

"Why," we inquired, "were not the Wanderobo 
sent at first, instead of yourselves?" 

"Because," they replied with truly engaging 
frankness, "our chief, Naiokotuku, thought that 
perhaps we might find elephant here in the country 
we know; and then we should get for ourselves all the 
presents you would give for finding elephant. But 
the elephant are not here now; so the Wanderobo 
will get part of the present." 

That was certainly candid. After some further 
talk we decided there was no help for it; we must 
return to camp for a new start. 

At this decision the Masai brightened. They 
volunteered to set off early with Leyeye, to push 
ahead of us rapidly, and to have the Wanderobo in 

339 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

camp by the time we reached there. We concealed 
somewhat cynical smiles, and agreed. 

The early start was made, but when we reached 
camp we found, not the Wanderobo, but Leyeye and 
the Masai huddled over a fire. This was exasperat- 
ing, but we could not say much. After all, the whole 
matter was no right of ours, but a manifestation of 
friendship on the part of Naiokotuku. In the early 
afternoon the sky cleared, and the ambassadors de- 
parted, promising faithfully to be back before we 
slept. We spent the day writing and in gazing at 
the vivid view of the side hill, the forest, and the 
distant miniature prospect before us. Finally we 
discovered what made it in essence so strangely 
familiar. In vividness and clarity, even in the 
crudity of its tones, it was exactly like a coloured 
photograph ! 

Of course the savages did not return that evening, 
nor did we really expect them. Just as a matter of 
form we packed up the next morning, and sat down 
to wait. Shortly before noon Leyeye and the Masai 
returned, bringing with them two of the strange, shy, 
forest hunters. 

But by this time we had talked things over 
thoroughly. The lure of the greater kudu was re- 
gaining the strength it had lost by a long series of 
disappointments. We had not time left for both 

340 






O G 
p. 



W 



t.: 




SCOUTING IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST 

a thorough investigation of the forests and a raid 
in the dry hills of the west after kudu. Mavrouki 
said he knew of a place where that animal ranged. 
So we had come to a decision. 

We called the Masai and Wanderobo before us. 
They squatted in a row, their spears planted before 
them. We sat in canvas chairs. Leyeye, standing, 
translated. The affair was naturally of the great- 
est deliberation. In the indirect African manner we 
began our shauri. 

We asked one simple question at a time, dealing 
with one simple phase of the subject. This phase 
we treated from several different points of view, in 
order to be absolutely certain that it was understood. 
To these questions we received replies in this 
manner: 

Yes, the Wanderobo told us, they knew the forest; 
they knew how to go about In the forest; they 
understood how to find their way in the forest. 
They knew the elephant; they had seen the elephant 
many times in the forest; they knew where the 
elephant ranged In the forest — and so on through 
every piece of Information we desired. It Is the 
usual and only sure way of questioning natives. 

Thus we learned that the elephant range extended 
south through the forests for about seven days' 
travel; that at this time of year the beasts might be 

341 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

anywhere on that range. This confirmed our de- 
cision. Then said we to Leyeye : 

"Tell the Masai that the hwana m'kuhwa is most 
pleased with them, and that he is pleased with the 
way they have worked for him, and that he is pleased 
with the presents they have brought him. Tell them 
that he has no goods here with him, but that he has 
sent men back to the boma of bwana Kingozi* for 
blankets and wire and cloth, and when those men 
return he will make a good present to these Masai 
and to Naiokotuku, their chief. 

"Tell the Wanderobo that the hwana rrCkuhwa is 
pleased with them, and that he thanks them for 
coming so far to tell him of the elephant, and that he 
believes they have told him the truth. Tell them 
the hwana nCkuhwa will not fight the elephant now, 
because he has not the time, but must go to attend 
to his affairs. But later, when two years have gone, 
he will make another safari, and will come back 
to this country, and will again ask these men to lead 
him out where he can fight the elephant. And in 
the meantime he will give them rupees with which 
to pay their hut tax to the Government." 

After various compliments the sitting rose. Then 
we packed up for a few hours' march. In a short 
time we passed the chief's village. He came out to 

*V.'s native name — the Master with the Red Beard. 



SCOUTING IN THE ELEPHANT FOREST 

say good-bye. A copper bronze youth accompanied 
him, lithe as a leopard. 

"My men have told me your words," said he. 
"I live always in these mountains, and my young 
men will bring me word when you return. I am 
glad the white men have come to see me. I shall 
have the Wanderobo ready to take you to fight the 
elephant when you return." 

He then instructed the young man to accompany 
us for the purpose of bringing back the presents we 
had promised. We shook hands in farewell, and so 
parted from this friendly and powerful chief. 



343 



XLIII 
THE TOPI CAMP 

AT the next camp we stayed for nearly a week. 
The country was charming. Mountains sur- 
rounded the long ellipse, near one edge of which we 
had pitched our tents. The ellipse was some ten 
miles long by four or five wide, and its surface rolled 
in easy billows to a narrow neck at the lower end. 
There we could just make out in the far distance a 
conical hill partly closing the neck. Atop the hill 
was a Masai manyatta, very tiny, with indistinct 
crawling red and brown blotches that meant cattle 
and sheep. Beyond the hill, and through the 
opening in the ellipse, we could see to another new 
country of hills and meadows and forest groves. In 
this clear air they were microscopically distinct. No 
blue of atmosphere nor shimmer of heat blurred 
their outlines. They were merely made small. 

Our camp was made in the open above a tiny 
stream. We saw wonderful sunrises and sunsets; 
and always spread out before us was the sweep of 
our plains and the unbroken ramparts that hemmed 

344 



THE TOPI CAMP 

us In. From these mountains meandered small 
stream-ways marked by narrow strips of trees and 
brush; but the most of the valley was of high green 
grass. Occasional ant-hills ten feet tall rose conical 
from the earth; and the country was pleasingly 
broken and modelled, so that one continually sur- 
mounted knolls, low, round ridges, and the like. Of 
such conditions are surprises made. 

The elevation here was some 7,000 feet; so that 
the nights were cold and the days not too warm. 
Our men did not fancy this change of weather. A 
good many of them came down with the fever always 
latent in their systems, and others suffered with 
bronchial coldsc 

At onetime we had down sick eleven men out of 
our slender total. However, I believe in spite of 
these surface symptoms, that the cold air did them 
good. It certainly improved our own appetites and 
staying power. 

In the thirty or forty square miles of our valley 
were many herds of varied game. We here, for the 
first time, found the Neuman's hartebeeste. The 
type at Narossara, and even in Lengetoto, was the 
common Coke's hartebeeste, so that between these 
closely allied species there interposes at this point 
only the barriers of a climb and a forest. These 
animals and the zebra were the most plentiful of the 

345 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

game. The zebra were brilliantly white and black, 
with magnificent coats. Thompson's and Roberts' 
gazelles were here in considerable numbers, eland, 
Roosevelt's wildebeeste, giraffe, the smaller grass 
antelopes^ and a fair number of topi. In the hills we 
saw buffalo signs, several cheetah, and heard many 
lions. 

It had been our first plan that C. should return 
immediately to V.'s boma after supplies, but in view 
of the abundance of game we decided to wait over a 
day. We much desired to get four topi; and this 
seemed a good chance to carry some of them out. 
Also we wished to decide for certain whether or 
not the hartebeeste here was really of the Neuman 
variety. 

We had great luck. Over the very first hill from 
camp we came upon a herd of about a dozen topi, 
feeding on a hill across the way. I knocked down 
the first one standing at just 250 paces. The herd 
then split and broke to right and left. By shooting 
very carefully and steadily I managed to kill three 
more before they were out of range. The last shot 
was at 325 paces. In all I fired seven shots, and hit 
six times. This was the best shooting I did in 
Africa — or anywhere else — and is a first-rate argu- 
ment for the Springfield and the high velocity, sharp- 
pointed bullet. 

346 



THE TOPI CAMP 

Overjoyed at our luck in collecting these animals 
so promptly, so near camp, and at a time so very pro- 
pitious for handling the trophies, we set to the job of 
skinning and cutting up. The able-bodied men all 
came out from camp to carry in the meat. They 
appeared grinning broadly, for they had had no meat 
since leaving the Narossara. Cuninghame and I saw 
matters well under way, and then went on to where I 
had seen a cheetah the day before. Hardly were we 
out of sight when two lions sauntered over the hill 
and proceeded to appropriate the meat! The two 
men in charge promptly withdrew. A moment later 
a dozen porters on their way out from camp topped 
the hill and began to yell at the lions. The latter 
then slowly and reluctantly retreated. 

We were very sorry we had not stayed. The valley 
seemed populated with lions, but in general they 
were, for some reason, strictly nocturnal. Daytimes 
they inhabited the fastnesses of the mountain ranges. 
We never succeeded in tracing them in that large and 
labyrinthine country; nor at any time could we 
induce them to come to kills. Either their natural 
prey was so abundant that they did not fancy ready- 
killed food; for, what is more likely, the cold nights 
prevented the odour of the carcasses from carrying 
far. We heard lions every night; and every morning 
we conscientiously turned out before daybreak to 

347 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

crawl up to our bait through the wet, cold grass, but 
with no results. That very night we were jerked 
from a sound sleep by a tremendous roar almost in 
camp. So close was it that it seemed to each of 
us but just outside the tent. We came up all stand- 
ing. The lion, apparently, was content with that 
practical joke, for he moved off quietly. Next 
morning we found where the tracks had led down to 
water, not ten yards away. 

We spent the rest of that day spying on the game 
herds. It is fascinating work, to lie belly down on a 
tall ant-hill, glasses steadied by elbows, picking out 
the individual animals and discussing them low- 
voiced with a good companion. Cuninghame and I 
looked over several hundred hartebeeste, trying to 
decide their identity. We were neither of us familiar 
with the animal and had onlyrecollections of the book 
distinctions. Finally I picked out one that seemed 
to present the most marked characteristics — and 
missed him clean at 280 yards. Then I took three 
shots at 180 yards to down a second choice. The 
poor shooting was forgotten, however, in our deter- 
mination that this was indeed Neumann. 

A vain hunt for lions occupied all the next day. 
The third morning Cuninghame started for the boma, 
leaving Billy and me to look about us as we willed. 
Shortly after he had departed a delegation of Masai 

348 




I offered a half rupee as a prize for an archery competition" 




Naiokotuku and one of his sons 



THE TOPI CAMP 

came In, dressed in their best, and bearing presents 
of milk. Leyeye was summoned as interpreter. 

The Masai informed us that last night a lion had 
leaped the thorn walls of their boma, had pressed 
on through the fires, had seized a two-year-old steer, 
and had dragged the beast outside. Then the pur- 
suit with spears and firebrands had become too hot 
for him, so that he had dropped his victim and re- 
tired. They desired (a) medicine for the steer, (b) 
magic to keep that lion away, (c) that I should assist 
them in hunting the lion down. 

I questioned them closely, and soon discovered 
both that the lion must have been very bold, and 
also that he had received a pretty lively reception. 
Magic to keep him away seemed like a safe enough 
proposition; for the chances were he would keep 
himself away. 

Therefore I filled a quart measure with clear water, 
passed my hand across its untroubled surface — and 
lo! it turned a clear bright pink! 

Long-drawn exclamations of "EIgh! "Eigh!" 
greeted this magic, performed by means of per- 
manganate crystals held between the fingers. 

"With this bathe the wounds of your steer. Then 
sprinkle the remainder over your cattle. The lion 
will not return," said I. Then reflecting that I was 
to be some time In the country, and that the lion 

349 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

might get over his scare, I added: "The power of 
this magic is three days." 

They departed very much impressed. A little 
later Memba Sasa and I followed them. The 
manyatta was most picturesquely placed atop the 
conical hill at the foot of the valley. From its eleva- 
tion we could see here and there in the distance the 
variegated blotches of red and white and black that 
represented the cattle herds. Innumerable flocks of 
sheep and goats, under charge of the small boys and 
youths, fed nearer at hand. The low smooth-plas- 
tered huts, with their abattis of thorn bush between, 
crowned the peak like a chaplet. Outside it sat 
a number of elders sunning themselves, and several 
smiling, good-natured young women, probably the 
spoiled darlings of these plutocrats. One of these 
damsels spoke Swahili, so we managed to exchange 
compliments. They told us exactly when and how 
the lion had gone. Three nimble old gentlemen 
accompanied us when we left. They were armed 
with spears; and they displayed the most extra- 
ordinary activity, skipping here and there across 
the ravines and through the brush, casting huge 
stones into likely cover, and generally making 
themselves ubiquitous. However, we did not come 
up with the lion. 

In our clinic that evening appeared one of the 

3S0 



THE TOPI CAMP 

men claiming to suffer from rheumatism. I sus- 
pected him, and still suspect him, of malingering in 
advance in order to get out of the hard work we must 
soon undertake — but had no means of proving my 
suspicion. However, I decided to administer asperin. 
We possessed only the powdered form of the drug. 
I dumped about five grains on his tongue, and was 
about to proffer him the water with which to wash 
it down — when he inhaled sharply! I do not know 
the precise effect of asperin in the windpipe, but it 
is not pleasant. The boy thought himself bewitched. 
His eyes stuck out of his head; he gasped painfully; 
he sank to the ground; he made desperate efforts 
to bolt out into the brush. By main strength we re- 
strained him, and forced him to swallow the water. 
Little by little he recovered. Next night I missed 
him from the clinic, and sent Abba Ali in search. 
The man assured Abba Ali most vehemently that 
the medicine was wonderful, that every trace of 
rheumatism had departed, that he never felt better 
in his life, and that (important point) he was per- 
fectly able to carry a load on the morrow. 



3SI 



XLIV 
THE UNKNOWN LAND 

CUNINGHAME returned the next day from 
V.'s, bringing more potio and some trade 
goods. We sent a good present back to Naiokotuku, 
and prepared for an early start into the new country. 
We marched out the lower end of our elliptical 
valley toward the miniature landscape we had seen 
through the opening. But before we reached it we 
climbed sharp to the right around the end of the 
mountains, made our way through a low pass, and 
so found ourselves in a new country entirely. The 
smooth, undulating green-grass plains were now 
superseded by lava expanses grown with low bushes. 
It was almost exactly like the sage-brush deserts of 
Arizona and New Mexico; the same coarse sand 
and lava footing, the same deeply eroded barrancas, 
the same scattered round bushes dotted evenly over 
the scene. We saw here very little game. Across 
the way lay another range of low mountains clothed 
darkly with dull green, like the chaparral-covered 
coast ranges of California. In one place was a gun- 

352 



Our southernmost camp. From this point we turned back 




We called the Masai and Wanderobo before us 




A present from Naiokotuku 



THE UNKNOWN LAND 

sight pass through which we could see other distant 
blue mountains. We crossed the arid plain and 
toiled up through the notch pass. 

The latter made very difficult footing indeed, for 
the entire surface of the ground was covered with 
smooth, slippery boulders and rocks of iron and 
quartz. What had so smoothed them I do not 
know; for they seemed to be ill-placed for water 
erosion. The boys with their packs atop found this 
hard going; and we ourselves slipped and slid and 
bumped in spite of our caution. 

Once through the pass we found ourselves over- 
looking a wide prospect of undulating thorn scrub 
from which rose occasional bushy hills, solitary 
buttes, and bold cliffs. It was a thick-looking 
country to make a way through. 

Nevertheless somewhere here dwelt the kudu, so 
in we plunged. The rest of the day — and of days 
to follow — we spent in picking a way through the 
thorn scrub and over loose rocks and shifting stones. 
A stream bed contained an occasional water hole. 
Tall aloes were ablaze with red flowers. The 
country looked arid, the air felt dry, the atmosphere 
was so clear that a day's journey became — visu- 
ally — but the matter of a few hours. Only rarely did 
we enjoy a few moments of open travel. Most of 
the time the thorns caught at us. In the mountain 

353 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

passes were sometimes broad trails of game or of the 
Masai cattle. The country was harsh and dry and 
beautiful with the grays and dull greens of arid-land 
brush, or with the soft atmospheric tints of arid- 
land distances. Game was fairly common, but 
rather difficult to find. There were many buffalo, 
a very few zebra, leopards, hyenas, plenty of impalla, 
some sing-sing, a few eland, abundant warthog, 
Thompson's gazelle, and duiker. We never lacked 
for meat when we dared shoot it, but we were after 
nobler game. The sheep given us by Naiokotuku 
followed along under charge of the syces. 

When we should have run quite out of meat, we in- 
tended to eat them. We delayed too long, however. 
One evening the fool boy tied them to a thorn bush; 
one of them pulled back, the thorns bit, and both 
broke loose and departed into the darkness. Of 
course everybody pursued, but we could not re- 
capture them. Ten minutes later the hyenas broke 
into the most unholy laughter. We could not blame 
them; the joke was certainly on us. 

In passing, the cachinnations of the laughing 
hyena are rather a series of high-voiced, self-con- 
scious titters than laughter. They sound like the 
stage idea of a lot of silly and rather embarrassed old 
maids who have been accused by some rude man of 
"taking notice." This call is rarely used; indeed, 

354 



THE UNKNOWN LAND 

I never heard it but the once. The usual note is 
a sort of moaning howl, impossible to describe but 
easy to recognize. 

Thus we penetrated gradually deeper and deeper 
into this wild country; through low mountains, over 
bush-clad plains, into thorn jungles, down wide 
valleys, over hill-divided plateaus. Late in the 
afternoon we would make camp. Sometimes we 
had good water; more often not. In the evening 
the throb of distant drums and snatches of inter- 
mittent wailing song rose and fell with the little 
night breezes. 



355 



XLV 
THE ROAN 

OUR last camp, before turning back, we pitched 
about two o'clock of one afternoon. Up to this 
time we had marched steadily down wide valleys, 
around the end of mountain ranges, moving from 
one room to the other of this hill-divided plateau. 
At last we ended on a slope that descended gently 
to water. It was grown sparingly with thorn trees, 
among which we raised our tents. Over against us, 
and across several low swells of grass and scrub- 
grown hills, was a range of mountains. Here, 
Mavrouki claimed, dwelt roan antelope. 

We settled down quite happily. The country 
round about was full of game; the weather was cool, 
the wide swoops of country, the upward fling of 
mountains and buttes were much like some parts of 
our great West. Almost every evening the thunder 
storms made gorgeous piled effects in the distance. 
At night the lions and hyenas roared or howled, and 
some of the tiny fever owls impudently answered 
them back. 

356 



THE ROAN 

Various adventures came our way, some of which 
have been elsewhere narrated. Here we killed the 
very big buffalo that nearly got Billy.* In addition 
we collected two more specimens of the Neuman's 
hartebeeste, and two Chanler's reed buck. 

But Mavrouki's glowing predictions as to roan 
were hardly borne out by facts. According to him 
the mountains sim^ply swarmed with them — - he had 
seen thirty-five in one day, etc. Of course we had 
discounted this, but some old tracks had to a certain 
extent borne out his statement. 

Lunch time one day, however, found us on top of 
the highest ridge. Here we hunted up a bit of shade, 
and spent two hours out of the noon sun. While we 
lay there the sky slowly overcast, so that when we 
aroused ourselves to go on, the dazzling light had 
softened. As time was getting short, we decided to 
separate. Memba Sasa and Mavrouki were to go 
in one direction, while Cuninghame, Kongoni and 
I took the other. Before we started I remarked 
that I was oifering two rupees for the capture of a 
roan. 

We had not gone ten minutes when Kongoni 
turned his head cautiously and grinned back 
at us. 

"My rupees," said he. 

*"The Land of Footprints." 

357 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

A fine buck roan stood motionless beneath a tree 
in the valley below us. He was on the other side 
of the stream jungle, and nearly a mile away. 
While we watched him, he lay down. 

Our task now was to gain the shelter of the stream- 
jungle below without being seen, to slip along it 
until opposite the roan, and then to penetrate the 
river jungle near enough to get a shot. The 
first part of this contract seemed to us the most 
difficult, for we were forced to descend the face of 
the hill, like flies crawling down a blackboard, 
plain for him to see. 

We slid cautiously from bush to bush; we moved 
by imperceptible inches across the too numerous open 
paces. About halfway down we were arrested by a 
violent snort ahead. Fifteen or twenty zebra 
nooning in the brush where no zebra were supposed 
to be, clattered down the hill like an avalanche. We 
froze where we were. The beasts ran fifty yards, 
then wheeled, and stared back up the hill, trying to 
make us out. For twenty minutes all parties to 
the transaction remained stock still, the zebra 
staring, we hoping fervently they would decide to 
go down the valley and not up it, the roan doz- 
ing under his distant tree. 

By luck our hopes were fulfilled. The zebra 
turned down stream, walking sedately away in 

358 



THE ROAN 

single file. When we were certain they had all quite 
gone, we resumed our painful decsent. 

At length we dropped below the screen of trees, and 
could stand upright and straighten the kinks out of our 
backs. But now a new complication arose. The wind, 
which had been the very basis of our calculations, 
commenced to chop and veer. Here it blew from 
one quarter, up there on the side hill from another, 
and through the bushes in quite another direction 
still. Then without warning they would all shift 
about. We watched the tops of the grasses through 
our binoculars, hoping to read some logic into the 
condition. It was now four o'clock — our stalk 
had thus far consumed two hours — and the roan 
must soon begin to feed. If we were going to do 
anything, we must do it soon. 

Therefore we crept through a very spiky, noisy 
jungle to its other edge, sneaked along the edge until 
we could make out the tree, and raised ourselves for 
a look. Through the glass I could just make out 
the roan's face stripe. He was still there! 

Quite encouraged I instantly dropped down and 
crawled to within range. When again I raised my 
head the roan had disappeared. One of those 
aggravating little side puffs of breeze had destroyed 
our two hours' work. 

The outlook was not particularly encouraging. 
359 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

We had no means of telling how far the animal 
would go, nor into what sort of country; and the 
hour was well advanced toward sunset. However, 
we took up the track and proceeded to follow it as 
well as we could. That was not easy, for the ground 
was hard and stony. Suddenly Cuninghame threw 
himself flat. Of course we followed his example. 
To us he whispered that he thought he had caught a 
glimpse of the animal through an opening and across 
the stream bed. We stalked carefully; and found 
ourselves in the middle of a small herd of topis, one 
of which, half concealed in the brush, had deceived 
Cuninghame. This consumed valuable time. When 
again we had picked up the spoor it was agreed that 
I was to still-hunt ahead as rapidly as I could, while 
Cuninghame and Kongoni would puzzle out the 
tracks as far as possible before dark. 

Therefore I climbed the little rocky ridge on our 
left, and walked along near its crest, keeping a 
sharp lookout over the valley below; much as one 
would hunt August bucks in California. After two 
or three hundred yards I chanced on a short strip 
of soft earth in which the fresh tracks of the roan 
going up hill were clearly imprinted. I could not 
without making too much noise inform the others 
that I had cut in ahead of them; so I followed the 
tracks as cautiously and quietly as I could. On the 

360 



THE ROAN 

very top of the hill the roan leaped from cover fifty 
yards away, and with a clatter of rocks dashed off 
down the ridge. The grass was very high, and I 
could see only his head and horns, but I dropped the 
front sight six inches and let drive at a guess. The 
guess happened to be a good one, for he turned a 
summersault seventy two yards away. 

Cuninghame and Kongoni came up. The sun had 
just set. In fifteen minutes it would be pitch dark. 
We despatched Kongoni for help and lanterns; and 
turned to on the job of building a signal fire and 
skinning the trophy. 

The reason for our strangely chopping wind now 
became apparent. From our elevation we could 
see piled thunder clouds looming up from the west. 
They were spreading upward and outward in the 
swift, rushing manner of tropic storms; and I saw I 
must hustle if I was to get my fire going at all. The 
first little blaze was easy; and after that I had to pile 
on quantities of any wood I could lay my hands to. 
The deluge blotted out every vestige of daylight and 
nearly drowned out my fire. I had started to help 
Cuninghame with the roan, but soon found that I 
had my own job cut out for me, and so went back to 
nursing my blaze. The water descended in sheets. 
We were immediately soaked through, and very cold. 
The surface of the ground was steep and covered 

361 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

with loose round rocks; and in my continuous trips 
for firewood I stumbled and slipped and ran into 
thorns miserably.* 

After a long interval of this the lanterns came 
bobbing through the darkness, and a few moments 
later the dim light revealed the shining, rain-soaked 
faces of our men. 

We wasted no time in the distributions of burdens. 
Cuninghame with one of the lanterns brought up the 
rear, while I with the other went on ahead. 

Now as Kongoni had but this minute completed 
the round trip to camp we concluded that he would 
be the best one to give us a lead. This was a mistake. 
He took us out of the hills well enough, and a good 
job that was, for we could not see the length of our 
arms into the thick, rainy blackness, and we had to 
go entirely by the slants of the country. But once in 
the more open, sloping country, with its innumerable 
bushy or wooded ravines, he began to stray. I felt 
this from the first; but Kongoni insisted strongly he 
was right, and in the rain and darkness we had no 
way of proving him wrong. In fact I had no reason 
for thinking him wrong, I only felt it. This sense 
of direction is apparently a fifth wheel or extra 
adjustment some people happen to possess. It has 

*Six months after I had reached home one of these thorns worked its way 
out of the calf of my leg. 

362 



THE ROAN 

nothing to do with acquired knowledge, as is very 
well proved by the fact that in my own case it acts 
only as long as I do not think about it. As soon as I 
begin consciously to consider the matter I am likely 
to go wrong. Thus many, many times I have back- 
tracked in the dark over ground I had traversed but 
once before, and have caught myself turning out for 
bushes or trees I could not see, but which my sub- 
conscious memory recalled. This would happen 
only when I would think of something beside the way 
home. As soon as I took charge, I groped as badly 
as the next man. It is a curious, and sometimes 
valuable extra; but by no means to be depended 
upon. 

Now, however, as I was following Kongoni, this 
faculty had full play; and it assured me vehemently 
that we were wrong. I called Cuninghame up from 
the rear for consultation. Kongoni was very positive 
he was right, but as we had now been walking over an 
hour, and camp should not have been more than 
three miles from where we had killed the roan, we 
were inclined toward my instinct. So we took the 
compass direction, in order to assure consistency at 
least, and struck off at full right angles to the left. 

So we tramped for a long time. Every few 
moments Kongoni would want another look at that 
compass. It happened that we were now going due 

363 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

north; and his notion was that the needle pointed the 
way to camp. We profoundly hoped that his faith 
in white man's magic would not be shattered. At 
the end of an hour the rain let up, and it cleared 
sufficiently to disclose some of the mountain out- 
lines. They convinced us that we were in the main 
right; though just where, to the north, camp now 
lay was beyond our power to determine. Kongoni's 
detour had been rather indeterminate in direction 
and distance. 

The country now became very rough, in a small 
way. The feeble light of our leading lantern re- 
vealed only ghosts and phantoms and looming, 
warning suggestions of things which the shadows 
confused and shifted. Heavily laden men would 
have found it difficult travelling by prosaic daylight; 
but now, with the added impossibility of picking a 
route ahead, we found ourselves in all sorts of 
trouble. Many times we had to back out and try 
again. The ghostly flickering tree shapes against 
the fathomless black offered us apparently endless 
aisles that nevertheless closed before us like the doors 
of a trap when we attempted to enter them. 

We kept doggedly to the same general northerly 
direction. When you are lost, nothing is more 
foolish than to make up your mind hastily and with- 
out due reflection; and nothing is more foolish 

364 



THE ROAN 

than to change your mind once you have made it 
up. That way vacillation, confusion, and disaster 
lie. Should you decide, after due consideration of 
all the elements of the problem, that you should go 
east; then east you go, and nothing must turn you. 
You may get to the Atlantic Ocean if nothing else. 
And if you begin to modify your original plan, then 
you begin to circle. Believe me; I know. 

Kongoni was plainly skeptical, and said so until 
I shut him up with some rather peremptory sarcasm. 
The bearers, who had to stumble in the dark under 
heavy burdens, were good-natured and joking. This 
we appreciated. One can never tell whether or 
not he is popular with a native until he and the 
native are caught in a dangerous or disagreeable fix. 

We walked two hours as in a treadmill. Then 
that invaluable, though erratic, sixth sense of mine 
awoke. I stopped short. 

"I believe we've come far enough," I shouted back 
to Cuninghame and fired my rifle. 

We received an almost immediate answer from a 
short distance to the left. Not over two hundred 
yards in that direction we met our camp men bearing 
torches, and so were escorted in triumph after a 
sixteen-hour day. 



36s 



XLVI 
THE GREATER KUDU 

NEXT morning, in a joking manner, I tried to 
impress Kongoni with a sense of delinquency 
in not knowing better his directions, especially as 
he had twice traversed the route. He declined to 
be impressed. 

"It is not the business of man to walk at night," 
he replied with dignity. 

And when you stop to think of it, it certainly is 
not — in Africa. 

At this camp we lingered several days. The great 
prize of our journeying still lacked, and, to tell the 
truth, we had about given up hope if not our efforts. 
Almost we had begun to believe our friends in 
Nariobi who had scoffed at the uselessness of our 
quest. Always we conscientiously looked over good 
kudu country, hundreds of miles of it, and always 
with the same lack of result, or even of encourage- 
ment. Other game we saw in plenty, of a dozen 
different varieties large and small; but our five weeks' 
search had thus far yielded us only the sight of the 

Z66 



THE GREATER KUDU 

same old, old sign, made many months before. If 
you had stood with us atop one of the mountains, 
and with us had looked abroad on the countless 
leagues of rolling, brush-clothed land, undulating 
away in all directions over a far horizon, you must 
with us have estimated as very slight the chances of 
happening on the exact pin point where the kudu at 
that moment happened to be feeding. For the 
beast is shy, it inhabits the densest, closest mountain 
cover, it possesses the keen eyesight and sense of 
smell of the bush-dwelling deer and antelope, and 
more than the average sense of hearing. There 
are very few of him. But the chief discouragement 
is that arising from his roaming tendencies. Other 
rare animals are apt to "use" about one locality, so 
that once the hunter finds tracks, new or old, his 
game is one of patient, skillful search. The greater 
kudu, however seems in this country at least to be 
a wanderer. He is here to-day, and gone to-morrow. 
Systematic search seems as foolish as in the case of 
the proverbial needle in the haystack. The only 
method is to shift constantly, and trust to luck. One 
cannot catch fish with the fly in the book, but he has 
at least a chance if he keeps it on the water. 

Mavrouki was the only one among us who had 
the living faith that comes from having seen the 
animal in the flesh. That is a curious bit of hunter 

367 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

psychology. When a man is out after a species new 
to him, it is only by the utmost stretch of the im- 
agination that he is able to realize that such an 
animal can exist at all. He cannot prefigure it, 
somehow. He generally exaggerates to himself 
the difficulty of making it out, of approaching it, 
of getting his shot; until at last, if he happens to 
have hunted some time in vain, the beast becomes 
almost mythical and unbelievable. Once he has seen 
the animal, whether he gets a shot or not, all this 
vanishes. The strain on faith relaxes. He knows 
what to look for, and what to expect; and even if he 
sees no other specimen for a month, he nevertheless 
goes about the business with a certain confidence. 

One afternoon we had been hunting carefully cer- 
tain low mountains, and were headed for camp, 
walking rather carelessly along the bed of a narrow, 
open valley below the bush-covered side hills. The 
sun had disappeared behind the ranges, and the dusk 
of evening was just beginning to rise like a mist from 
the deeps of the canons. We had ceased hunting — 
it was time to hurry home — and happened not to be 
talking only because we were tired. By sheerest 
idle luck I chanced to look up to the densely covered 
face of the mountain. Across a single tiny opening 
in the tall brush five or six hundred yards away I 
caught a movement. Still idly I lifted my glasses 

368 




t 



THE GREATER KUDU 

for a look at what I thought would prove the usual 
impalla or sing-sing, and was just in time to catch the 
spirals of a magnificent set of horns. It was the 
greater kudu at last! 

I gave a little cluck of caution; and instantly, 
without question, after the African fashion, the three 
men ahead of me sank to the ground. Cuninghame 
looked at me inquiringly. I motioned with my eyes. 
He raised his glasses for one look. 

"That's the fellow," he said quietly. 

The kudu, as though he had merely stepped Into 
the opening to give us a sight of him, melted into 
the brush. 

It was magnificent and exciting to have seen this 
wonderful beast after so long a quest, but by the 
same token it was not very encouraging for all that. 
If we had had all the daylight we needed, and un- 
limited time, it would have been quite a feat to stalk 
the wary beast in that thick, noisy cover. Now it 
was almost dark, and would be quite dark within the 
half hour. The kudu had moved out of sight. 
Whether he had gone on some distance, or whether 
he still lingered near the edge of the tiny opening was 
another matter to be determined, and to be deter- 
mined quickly. 

Leaving Kongoni and Mavrouki, Cuninghame and 
I wriggled pantingly up the hill, as fast and at the 

369 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

same time as cautiously as we could. At the edge 
of the opening we came to a halt, belly down, and 
began eagerly to scrutinize the brush across the way. 
If the kudu still lingered we had to find it out before 
we ventured out of cover to take up his trail. Inch 
by inch we scrutinized every possible concealment. 
Finally Cuninghame breathed sharp with satisfaction. 
He had caught sight of the tip of one horn. With some 
difficulty he indicated to me where. After staring 
long enough, we could dimly make out the kudu him- 
self browsing, from the tender branch-ends. 

All we could do was to lie low. If the kudu fed on 
out of sight into the cover, we could not possibly 
get a shot; if he should happen again to cross the 
opening, we would get a good shot. No one but a 
hunter can understand the panting, dry-mouthed 
excitement of those minutes; five weeks' hard work 
hung in the balance. The kudu did neither of 
these things; he ceased browsing, took three steps 
forward, and stood. 

The game seemed blocked. The kudu had evidently 
settled down for a snooze; it was impossible, in the 
situation, to shorten the distance without being 
discovered; the daylight was almost gone; we could 
make out no trace of him except through our glasses. 
Look as hard as we could, we could see nothing with 
the naked eye. Unless something happened within 

370 



THE GREATER KUDU 

the next two minutes we would bring nothing into 
camp but the memory of a magnificent beast. And 
next day he would probably be inextricably lost in 
the wilderness of mountains.* 

It was a time for desperate measures, and, to Cun- 
inghame's evident anxiety,! took them. Through the 
glasses the mane of the kudu showed as a dim gray 
streak. Carefully I picked out two twigs on a bush 
fifteen feet from me and a tuft of grass ten yards on, 
all of which were in line with where the shoulder of 
the kudu ought to be. Then I lowered my glasses. 
The gray streak of the kudu's mane had disappeared 
in the blending twilight; but I could still see the tips 
of the twigs and the tuft of grass. Very carefully I 
aligned the sights with these; and, with a silent prayer 
to the Red Gods, loosed the bullet into the darkness. 

At the crack of the rifle the kudu leaped into plain 
sight. 

"Hit!" rasped Cuninghame in great excitement. 

I did not wait to verify this, but fired four times 
more as fast as I could work the bolt. Three of the 
bullets told. At the last shot he crumpled and came 
rolling down the slope. We both raised a wild 
whoop of triumph, which was answered at once by 
the expectant gunbearers below. 

The finest trophy in Africa was ours! 

*Trailing for any distance was impossible on account of the stony soil. 



XLVII 
THE MAGIC PORTALS CLOSE 

IT seemed hopeless to try for a picture. Never- 
theless I opened wide my lens, steadied the 
camera, and gave it a half second. The result was 
fairly good. So much for a high grade lens. We 
sent Kongoni in to camp for help, and ourselves 
proceeded to build up the usual fire for signal and 
for protection against wild beasts. Then we sat 
down to enjoy the evening, while Mavrouki skinned 
the kudu. 

We looked abroad over a wide stretch of country. 
Successive low ridges crossed our front, each of a 
different shade of slate gray from its neighbours; 
and a gray half-luminous mist filled the valley 
between them. The edge of the world was thrown 
sharp against burnished copper. After a time the 
moon rose. 

Memba Sasa arrived before the lanterns, out of 
breath, his face streaming with perspiration. Poor 
Memba Sasa ! this was almost the only day he had not 
followed close at my heels, and on this day we had 

372 



THE MAGIC PORTALS CLOSE 

captured the Great Prize ! No thought of that seemed 
to affect the heartiness of his joy. He rushed up to 
shake both my hands; he examined the kudu with an 
attention that was held only by great restraint; he 
let go that restraint to shake me again enthusiasti- 
cally by the hands. After him, up the hill, bobbed 
slowly the lanterns. The smiling bearers shouldered 
the trophy and the meat; and we stumbled home 
through the half shadows and the opalescences of 
the moonlight. 

Our task in this part of the country was now 
finished. We set out on the return journey. The 
weather changed. A beautiful, bright-copper sun- 
set was followed by a drizzle. By morning this had 
turned into a heavy rain. We left the topi camp to 
which we had by now returned, cold and miserable. 
Cuninghame and I had contributed our waterproofs 
to protect the precious trophies; and we were speedily 
wet through. The grass was long. This was no 
warm and grateful tropical rain; but a driving, chill- 
ing storm straight out from the high mountains. 

We marched up the long plain, we turned to the 
left around the base of the ranges, we mounted the 
narrow grass valley, we entered the forest — the 
dark, dripping, and unfriendly forest. Over the edge 
we dropped and clambered down through the hang- 
ing vines and the sombre trees. By and by we 

373 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

emerged on the open plains below, the plains on the 
hither side of the Narossara, the Africa we had 
known so long. The rain ceased. It was almost 
as though a magic portal had clicked after us. Be- 
hind it lay the wonderful secret upper country of 
the unknown. 



374 



XLVIII 
THE LAST TREK 

SOME weeks later we camped high on the slopes 
of Suswa, the great mountain of the Rift Val- 
ley, only one day's march from the railroad. After 
the capture of the kudu Africa still held for us 
various adventures — a buffalo, a go of fever, and 
the like — but the culmination had been reached. 
We had lingered until the latest moment, reluctant 
to go. Now in the gray dawn we were filing down 
the slopes of the mountains for the last trek. A low, 
flowing mist marked the distant Kedong; the flames 
of an African sunrise were revelling in the eastern 
skies. All our old friends seemed to be bidding us 
good-bye. Around the shoulder of the mountains 
a lion roared, rumble upon rumble. Two hyenas 
leaped from the grass, ran fifty yards, and turned to 
look at us. 

"Good-bye, simba! good-bye, ficeP^ we cried to 
them sadly. 

A little farther we saw zebra, and the hartebeeste, 
and the gazelles. One by one appeared and disap- 

375 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

peared again the beasts with which we had grown 
so familiar during our long months in the jungle. So 
remarkable was the number of species that we both 
began to comment upon the fact, to greet the 
animals, to say them farewell, as though they were 
reporting orderly from the jungle to bid us godspeed. 
Half in earnest we waved our hands to them and 
shouted our greetings to them in the native — punda 
milia, kongoni, pa-a, fice, m^pofu, tzviga, simba, 
n'grooui, and the rest. Before our eyes the misty 
ranges hardened and stiffened under the fierce sun. 
Our men marched steadily, cheerfully, beating their 
loads in rhythm with their safari sticks, crooning 
under their breaths and occasionally breaking into 
full-voiced chant. They were glad to be back from 
the long safari, back from across the Thirst, from 
the high, cold country, from the dangers and discom- 
forts of the unknown. We rode a little wistfully, 
for these great plains and mysterious jungles, 
these populous, dangerous, many-voiced nights, 
these flaming, splendid dawnings and day-falls, these 
fierce, shimmering noons we were to know no more. 
Two days we had in Nairobi before going to the 
coast. There we paid off and dismissed our men, 
giving them presents according to the length and 
faithfulness of their service. They took them and 
departed, eagerly, as was natural, to the families and 

376 



THE LAST TREK 

the pleasures from which they had been so long 
separated. Mohamet said good-bye, and went, and 
was sorry; Kongoni departed, after many, and 
sincere protestions; quiet little Mavrouki came back 
three times to shake hands again, and disappeared 
reluctantly — but disappeared; Leyeye went; Abba 
Ali followed the service of his master, Cuninghame; 
"Timothy" received his present — in which he was 
disappointed — and departed with salaams. Only 
Memba Sasa remained. I paid him for his long 
service, and I gave him many and rich presents, and 
bade farewell to him with genuine regret and 
affection. 

Memba Sasa had wives and a farm near town, 
neither of which possessions he had seen for a very 
long while. Nevertheless he made no move to see 
them. When our final interview had terminated 
with the usual ^^hass^ (It is finished) he shook 
hands once more and withdrew, but only to take his 
position across the street. There he squatted on his 
heels, fixed his eyes upon me, and remained. I 
went downtown on business. Happening to glance 
through the office window I caught sight of Memba 
Sasa, again across the street, squatted on his heels, 
his gaze fixed unwaveringly on my face. So it was 
for two days. When I tried to approach him, he 
glided away, so that I got no further speech with him; 

377 



AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 

but always, quietly and unobtrusively, he returned 
to where he could see me plainly. He considered 
that our interview had terminated our official 
relations, but he wanted to see the last of the bzvana 
with whom he had journeyed so far. 

One makes many acquaintances as one knocks 
about the world; and once in a great many moons 
one finds a friend — a man the mere fact of whose 
existence one is glad to realize, whether one ever 
sees him again or not. These are not many, and 
they are of various degree. Among them I am glad 
to number this fierce savage. He was efficient, self- 
respecting, brave, staunch, and loyal with a great 
loyalty. I do not think I can better end this book 
than by this tribute to a man whose opportunities 
were not many, but whose soul was great 



THE END 



37^ 




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